


A Fragile Destiny Part 2

by mzsnaz, Sarek and Amanda Archive Maintainer (Selek)



Series: A Fragile Destiny [2]
Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-03
Updated: 2013-03-03
Packaged: 2017-12-04 06:07:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 40,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/707396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mzsnaz/pseuds/mzsnaz, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selek/pseuds/Sarek%20and%20Amanda%20Archive%20Maintainer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yet another 'How Sarek and Amanda met' story' but with a twist. What if their marriage was arranged as is considered customary by Vulcan standards?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Fragile Destiny Part 2

Chapter 9 – The Questions

 

Amanda: Why didn’t you tell me?

Sarek: There was nothing you could have done.

(TOS: Journey to Babel)

 

 

Skon had expected the formal inquiry into the disaster on Sigma Omicron; however, he hadn’t anticipated the manner of questioning that was being fired at his son from every angle. The Federation council was composed of some of the brightest members of their respective planets and species. One would assume that they would consider all the facts before settling on a most illogical and emotional investigation that seemed foremost to be what humans called a ‘witch hunt’. Sarek had answered their questions in a clear and concise manner; yet, there was still an air of skepticism about the timing of his departure. To admit that his son had left the quadrant due to what seemed to be an urgent desire to begin his duties on Earth would give emotional motives to his action. Since it was based on his son’s misguided belief that he was immediately needed on Earth, Skon had no reason to offer the inexperienced gaff as evidence of Sarek’s blamelessness. It was no surprise that the logical outcome was a complete exoneration of blame. After leaving the council chambers, Skon swiftly caught up with his son.

 

“Sarekam,” the ambassador said loudly enough to draw his son’s attention. “I shall speak with you.”

 

The younger Vulcan stopped to wait for his father to approach. The Federation Headquarters was temporarily housed in a large complex of buildings at a location that had once been a recreational area. As membership in the Federation grew, the former location had been outgrown, and a small but vocal group of members had made it known that they were eying the Vulcan embassy complex with intense interest. Sarek agreed that the embassy location was ideal, but he sensed that his father was quite against the proposal of allowing the Federation to acquire the property; however, the elder Vulcan’s rationale for such resistance remained unspoken.

 

“Sarekam,” Skon repeated as he gathered his son with a glance and continued toward the exit, “It is pleasing that the council has expediently resolved the Sigma quadrant issue. You shall prepare your final review and report.”

 

“Yes, Father,” Sarek said softly, causing the elder Vulcan to glance at him. It had been two months since his son’s arrival on Earth, and Skon had heard only positive comments from Sennar about Sarek’s work. That had been expected; however, some part of him had been prepared for a more difficult transition for the younger Vulcan. 

 

“You have served well, my son,” Skon commented as they traversed the mobile walkway leading to their vehicle.

 

“I come to serve,” Sarek properly replied. 

 

Again, Skon could not fault the response, but it lacked the underlying fervent core that usually fueled his son’s speech. “There are matters of great importance that we must discuss once we arrive at the embassy,” Skon said as they took their seats in the flitter.

 

“About Sigma Omicron?” Sarek asked.

 

“No,” Skon solemnly replied as he checked the monitor for any critical problems that he needed to address. “We shall discuss why you have been summoned to Earth.”

 

Sarek remained silent as he gazed expectantly at his father. When nothing further was offered, he turned to study the richly varied landscape that streamed past his window. Earth was so much brighter than Sigma Omicron had been… Sarek closed his eyes at the thought of all those lost in the tragedy. Fighting was still being sporadically reported in the outlying planetoids of the quadrant; but there was very little for them to fight over. The wealth of the system had been on the main planet, which had been destroyed. Zandrel was dead…his consort and children dead…

 

Sarek silently mourned their loss even as he considered the awesome responsibility that had been his. Perhaps his father was correct in not immediately placing him in the diplomatic position. Acting as Sennar’s assistant had been more informative and insightful than Sarek had anticipated. He’s learned the inner workings of the embassy on Earth as an underling and without the pressure of arriving and proving his worth. Sarek blinked and glanced over at his father. Skon locked eyes with him momentarily, an unspoken exchange as Sarek raised a surprised eyebrow. Was it possible that his father planned the entire ‘demotion’ from the beginning? Most fascinating… 

 

The younger Vulcan gazed out again at the view that was now dominated by the Golden Gate Bridge. He’d thought his father’s decision had been detrimental to him; but, by this point in his life, he should be aware of the sagacity of his Elders. Why that particular lesson was so difficult for him to master was a mystery. 

 

As they entered the Vulcan embassy compound, Sarek noted the increased security measures that had been implemented following the latest threats. A vocal extremist group had emerged from the shadows and claimed that the Vulcans were only on Earth to ready it for future conquest. The entire scenario was ludicrous, but there were always those who believed the most fantastical tales no matter how outlandish. It was merely an inconvenience that their flitter was carefully scanned to check for bioweapons. The latest communication from the group had claimed that they had discovered a way to ‘dispose’ of the alien threat with a common Terran virus. The thought of wanting to inflict such misery on anyone was a foreign concept that Sarek had no intention of trying to understand. From his perspective, the group’s members were clearly insane.

 

After verifying that Sennar had no pressing matters that needed his attention, Sarek entered his father’s office and found the older Vulcan standing in front of the enormous picture window that overlooked the Bay. The clear day offered a panoramic view of the hills and vistas that surrounded the sparkling waters of the bay and ocean beyond. There were countless times when an impenetrable fog would encompass the city and give the usually open room a mystical, cocoon like form, as if the entire galaxy was eradicated from sight and nothing mattered but the operation of a single office. The filtered sunlight now blanketed the room in a warm glow that encouraged easy conversation. Standing in a comfortable silence next to his father, Sarek allowed his gaze to follow the lackadaisical flight of a seagull as he waited to be addressed.

 

“Such variety,” Skon remarked as the bird dove out of their line of sight.

 

“Indeed,” his son agreed. “The flora and fauna of Earth is noted for its incredible diversity.”

 

“Yes…diversity,” Skon said thoughtfully as he clasped his hands behind his back. “It is the ever changing universe that can never be completely understood, even by the most scholarly among us.”

 

“Indeed,” Sarek stated again. His father’s habit of stating such theoretical truths was well known to him, and he patiently waited for the actual conversation to begin.

 

“The challenge in the coming years, Sarekam, will be in building cooperation between the established and new members of the Federation,” Skon said as the gull reappeared for a brief moment before diving again. “The divisions between species can appear overwhelming; however, with skill and experience, you shall find a way to triumph over those less willing to change.”

 

Sarek puzzled over the pronoun selection. Did the older Vulcan not mean that he, as ambassador, would triumph?

 

“Father…” Sarek began, but was stopped by an upraised hand.

 

“Allow me to continue,” the ambassador demanded as he again followed the path of a gull. “In the near future, you shall be named Vulcan ambassador to Earth. There are reasons that I must retire. Those reasons are personal and shall not be discussed.”

 

Despite his years of training, Sarek couldn’t help but take in a sharp breath at his father’s pronouncement. Ambassador? He wasn’t even considered a diplomat at that point in time. How was he to advance to the point of being considered for such a powerful position within a presumed limited timeframe? Before he could say anything, Skon waved him to a chair in front of his desk as he stepped away from the window.

 

“Join me, my son,” the older Vulcan stated. “There is much to discuss.”

 

“Father,” Sarek began again, this time without being cut off, “while I am honored by your confidence in me, I cannot believe that I am suited for such a position at this juncture in my diplomatic career.”

 

“You are not,” Skon agreed as he sank into his desk chair. “That is why Sennar shall retain the position of Senior Aide. I shall act as advisor until you are deemed capable of handling the responsibilities unassisted.”

 

Sarek took in a deep breath and nodded slightly. “Such assistance from you and Sennar will be invaluable; but, why would you retire at such a point in time? You are young and have always acted in the best possible interest of Vulcan. I am not aware of any disparity between you and the Vulcan High Council.”

 

“No, there are no difficulties,” Skon granted as he glanced at his monitor screen. A flashing message indicator would need his attention once the meeting was over. “I believe it will be in the best interest of Vulcan to have an ambassador that is more flexible, and yet also more forceful, in his dealings with humans and other species.” He steeped his fingers as he spoke, carefully watching his son’s reactions. “My style of diplomacy works well with developed relationships and established allies. With the constant increase of Federation systems and planets, and the equally disparate members, I find it increasingly difficult to adjust.”

 

“You are considered one of our best diplomats,” Sarek countered, unconvinced by his father’s denunciation of his abilities. “It has been said that one must follow Skon’s example in building trust and allegiance with others.”

 

“‘Skon’s example’ was considered bold forty years ago. No longer.” Leaning forward, the ambassador held the dark hazel gaze of his son with his own. “You are the future, Sarekam. I shall do what I can to prepare you for your role. Others are being trained...” 

 

He paused as the final report from T’Spia came to mind. She had recommended that Amanda not be considered as a potential bondsmate, much to Skon’s consternation. When questioned, the younger woman had insisted that the girl was a poor candidate. Although his psi abilities were minimal, he had learned to read his own people with an astute skill. What he ultimately concluded was that T’Spia was trying to discourage his plan out of a sense of concern…almost duty. The specifics he could not grasp since he had believed that she and the human had become friends. T’Spia was endeavoring to prevent the inevitable, and that Skon could not understand. “There is much to consider,” he finally concluded. Sarek knew a closing remark when he heard it, so he stood, bowed his head, and left the office without a word. 

 

Skon observed the retreating figure until the door closed, and then he sank back into his chair. If T’Spia was correct, then he had failed his son again. If she was correct… Skon checked the waiting message even as he realized there was only one thing that he could do.

 

If he couldn’t rely on others to tell him the truth, then he would have to find out for himself. Pressing the comm key, he waited for Sennar to answer.

 

“Yes, S'haile?” the aide quickly responded.

 

“Contact John Grayson,” Skon said with no preamble. “I shall speak with him.” Yes, he thought as the connection was severed, he would speak with the human. It wouldn’t do to make an appointment to speak with his future daughter first.

 

\---

 

“Well?” Amanda excitedly asked. “What do you think?”

 

“Honestly, Amanda,” John replied with no enthusiasm, “don’t they make dresses using fabric anymore?”

 

“It IS made of fabric! Why can’t you look beyond the transparent parts?” the girl angrily retorted. “It covers all the essentials, and it’s comfortable.”

 

“No,” John said as he turned back to the monitor to catch up on the important events of the day. Amanda gave him her most exasperated look.

 

“No?” she repeated as she unblinkingly glared at her dad. “That’s all you can say? What if I can’t find another dress?”

 

“Then you won’t be going to the dance,” John replied easily. He wasn’t too keen on the idea of Amanda going to the homecoming dance, anyway. She had gone last year with Rheb, a seemingly polite enough young man, but through an incredible set of circumstances that his daughter insisted were completely true, she hadn’t been delivered home until early the following morning. Amanda still said that absolutely nothing had happened, but John couldn’t believe that she thought him so naïve as to believe the old ‘flitter energy pack wasn’t charged’ story. Hell, that story was old when he was dating.

 

“I have nothing else to wear, Dad,” Amanda lamented. She simply couldn’t wear the sea foam green dress since she’d worn that last year. That would be a dreadfully humiliating experience. It also irritated her that, except for letting out the top a minuscule bit, it still fit. Where was that growth spurt the doctors kept mentioning?

 

“Then I suggest you make sure your formal is cleaned,” Maura said as she entered the living room. She had been listening to the non-stop grumbling of their daughter for days, but there wasn’t anything that could be done. There weren’t any credits saved for such extravagances. 

 

“I refuse to wear it again,” Amanda fumed, glaring at her mother. “I’m trying to make the best of this, and Havia was nice enough to let me borrow a dress from her, but dad won’t let me wear it.”

 

“That outfit is better suited for an Orion slave girl, Amanda!” John yelled. He’d had enough of her fussing about the dance.

 

“Well, at least an Orion slave girl has more than one decent dress to her name!” Amanda retorted, then spun on her heel. “I know! Go to my room…” She left before John could respond. 

 

Maura started out after her, but John shook his head. “Let her go, Maura,” he said as the sense of resignation swept over him. “She’s right. She shouldn’t have to borrow clothes from her friends.”

 

“She shouldn’t be screaming at you about it, though,” Maura said as her dark gaze stared into the darkened hallway. “It’s been over two years since we moved, and just when I think she’s adjusted, she starts this babyish pouting.”

 

John raised an eyebrow at her assessment. He forced himself not to remind his wife of her own behavior as the comm unit chimed. As he checked the identity of the caller, he froze. It couldn’t be…

 

“Maura, I’ll take this in our room,” John awkwardly said as he hurriedly left the living room. Maura watched him leave, frustrated by her husband’s increasingly abrupt manner. He’d been preoccupied by something for quite some time, but he refused to discuss it with her. As their bedroom door closed, she again wondered at his strange conduct. As much as she hated to tiptoe around, she had to know the truth. If the message wasn’t specially coded, she should be able to tap into the comm message and get some answers.

 

John sat before the monitor screen for a moment as he composed himself. Why would Skon be contacting him now? He still had two years to get the tuition money together. Both he and Nancy were more convinced than ever that there was an amendment written, but its whereabouts remained unknown. Taking in a cleansing breath, he opened the channel.

 

“Ambassador,” John politely said as the Vulcan’s features filled the screen. Skon nodded slightly in acknowledgement.

 

“John,” he said solemnly, “you are, no doubt, wondering why I have contacted you at this particular juncture.”

 

“That’s exactly what I was going to ask,” the human said with no small amount of vexation. “I still have two years to pay you back.”

 

“One year, 342 days,” Skon countered. He raised his left eyebrow at the scowl that now graced the other man’s face.

 

“I’m well aware of how long I have,” John tersely said. “Why are you calling on me, and at home of all things?”

 

“I shall not mince words with you, John,” the ambassador said calmly. “I have contacted you with the intention of arranging a meeting between myself and Amanda.”

 

“Absolutely not!” John furiously snapped. “There is no way that I’ll allow you to meet with her! Not now! Not ever, if I have my way!”

 

Skon sat back in surprise at the verbal assault. Why was the human behaving in such an illogical fashion?

 

“If you are uncomfortable with your daughter attending the meeting alone, you are welcome to attend as well,” the Vulcan offered.

 

“Ambassador Skon, you don’t understand at all,” John heatedly replied. “There is no reason for you to meet with her. There is nothing further for us to discuss, sir. Goodbye.” He slammed his hand against the monitor as the screen darkened. The nerve of that Vulcan to call him at home and ask for a meeting! The absolute nerve!

 

“John.”

 

Whirling around, he was confronted by the frightened look on his wife’s face. “Maura,” he whispered, but she was looking at him as if for the first time. The door across from their room opened, and his daughter peered out curiously.

 

“John, why did the Vulcan ambassador contact you personally?” his wife asked as the girl entered the hallway. “And why does he want to meet with Amanda?”

 

“The ambassador wants to meet with me?” Amanda asked from the hall as she considered the possible reasons for such an event. “Are they going to be offering another course?”

 

“Amanda, go into your room and shut the door,” John demanded even as he saw the shock on his daughter’s face. It was a rare occurrence for him to not answer a direct question. It was even more rare for him to send her to her room.

 

“But, Dad,” she started to say, but Maura entered the bedroom and firmly shut the door behind her, cutting off any further protest from their daughter. She stood with her back to John for several seconds before confronting him.

 

“Maura, let me explain,” John earnestly said as he watched the confusion swirl in her eyes.

 

“Yes, I’d appreciate that,” she said frostily. “You’ve been acting so peculiarly that I’ve begun to imagine the worst.” Without warning, she reared back and kicked the door with the heel of her shoe against the artificial wood grain. Maura was rewarded with a startled yelp and the sound of retreating footsteps that ended with a door being forcefully closed.

 

“The worst? What do you mean?” John asked as he ignored the obvious eavesdropping Amanda had attempted.

 

“Your actions, John!” Maura plaintively said. “You don’t want me to spend any credits on anything, you won’t consider buying a house here, you jump anytime the comm unit chimes; I honestly started to believe that you were having an affair. But now, the Vulcan ambassador contacts you and wants to meet with Amanda. Why? Does this have to do with T’Spia?”

 

“No,” John softly sighed as his mind raced to find a way to explain the whole convoluted story.

 

“What do you owe the ambassador? You said you still had time to pay him back.” Maura stopped as she observed the almost perceptible weight of some burden exerting its interminable pressure on him. “John,” she whispered as she moved to stand in front of him, “what’s going on? I’ve never seen you look so alarmed.”

 

Try as he might, John couldn’t shake the frustrated tension that gripped his entire being at the thought that he might fail. He’d played with fire and, unless a miracle happened and the amendment to the will showed up, he would pay with his dearest blood. How could he have been so cavalier in agreeing to the bonding? Audibly sighing, he forced himself to relax as he wrapped his arms around his confused wife.

 

“Everything will be all right,” he hollowly said. Maura surprised him by pulling away, anger lighting her features.

 

“John, stop it!” she cried. “Tell me what’s going on!”

 

“I owe the ambassador for Amanda’s tuition,” he conceded even as he swore he’d never tell her about the entire agreement. The words came out faster and faster as he decided to give his wife enough information to satisfy her. “He was willing to pay for her tuition along with getting her a spot in the course. I told him I’d pay him back, and that’s what we were discussing. That’s why I’ve been so tight with our finances. Do you understand now?”

 

He watched as she absorbed what he told her even as he made sure that his expression was casual and light.

 

“But why did he want to meet with her?” Maura asked. She knew that John was proud of his ability to provide for them, and his confession about the tuition certainly fit with his edgy attitude of late.

 

“I’m not sure,” John honestly stated. “I just know that Amanda doesn’t need to know who is paying her tuition. She believes Nancy is, and I don’t want to upset her with the truth.” He wasn’t lying, and it was becoming easier to withhold the details of the agreement.

 

“You will be able to pay him back then?” Maura asked, not knowing that it was that question he had nightmares over.

 

“Of course,” he said as the tension reappeared. “In fact, I wanted to wait until I found out more, but I have some news that should thrill you.” He wanted desperately to change the subject, and the answer appeared even before he’d thoroughly thought it out. “Ambassador Agani is looking to beef up the East Coast office with additional personnel. I’m thinking about applying for a position.”

 

He knew exactly what Maura’s response to that would be as her face broke into a delighted smile. “Really!” she exclaimed. “John, that would be wonderful!”

 

“Yes, I thought you’d approve,” he said with relief. “I really want to help Nancy look for that amendment, and trying to find it from here isn’t working. Plus, I know how homesick you’ve been and a change of locale might be just what we need.” He didn’t add that what he most wanted was to put as much distance between the Vulcans and Amanda as possible.

 

“When would you know something?” Maura asked as she mentally began to move out of the cramped apartment.

 

“I have to apply first,” John said with a chuckle. “Don’t rush things! I’ll apply just as soon as I can.” He sobered as he moved toward the bedroom door. “Don’t say anything about our conversation to Amanda. I don’t want her to be disappointed if things don’t work out.” Despite the warmth in the room, he shivered for some inexplicable reason. He would work everything out because he had to. There were no other options.

 

 

The homecoming game turned out to be a tremendous success, thanks in no small part to the victory of the Brantley Bears soccer team over the Newton Knights. While Amanda was very disappointed over not being named to the homecoming court, she wasn’t surprised. Spending so much of her time with T’Spia the previous year had caused an erosion in her status with the popular crowd, one that she planned to quickly remedy now that her Vulcan friend was gone. So while Havia was heartily lauded for scoring the winning goal during the game, Amanda stood just outside the group’s inner circle and waited for the revelry to die down. The reception area used by the school’s alumni had been transformed for the dance into a blue and silver streamer filled wonderland filled with the blaring music of a local band. Jenner had been hanging with his friends from the moment the game ended, and she wondered why he seemed to be avoiding her. She hadn’t done anything wrong, and up until that point, he’d been nothing except the perfect gentleman. Even her dad had been impressed when Jenner came to the door for her, judging by the way the two of them had fallen into an easy rapport while discussing the local sports teams. Maybe it was just first date jitters. 

 

“Amanda!” Havia said as she finally broke away from the crowd around her. “I thought you were going to wear the dress you borrowed from me?” Amanda could feel the eyes of several other girls on her as she forced a smile.

 

“Oh, it didn’t fit as well as I hoped,” she flippantly said, hoping the lie would work. She glanced down at the sea foam green dress.

 

“What are you saying? That I’m fat?” Havia said in a rough tenor. She was the same height as Amanda, but was broader and more muscular.

 

“Of course not, Havia!” Amanda exclaimed, the nervous sensation of being the center of a very uncomfortable conversation causing her voice to rise.

 

“Borrowing a dress?” Villia said, her disgust dripping with each word. She was one of Brantley’s most popular girls. “How degrading! I didn’t know you were a charity case, Amanda.”

 

“I’m not a charity case,” the girl replied as she felt the anger beginning to build within her. “What I’m wearing is completely stylish.”

 

“You wore it last year,” Havia added with a haughty snort. “You said your dad couldn’t afford to buy you another dress.”

 

“Havia, don’t,” Amanda softly said, her sense of betrayal growing with each second.

 

“You should see where she lives.”

 

Amanda turned in time to see Jenner, Ebbe, and several more of the guys walking up to join the increasingly spiteful conversation. With no way to escape, Amanda could only stand in the middle of the group and feel her resolve not to get upset disappear.

 

“Jenner, tell them the truth,” she pleaded. “You know that our apartment is quite nice.”

 

“The whole apartment is smaller than my bedroom,” he said as several of the guys laughed. “It took me almost an hour to find it!”

 

“There’s nothing wrong with where I live,” Amanda snapped, her eyes narrowed and fiercely glaring at her date. “Some day, we’ll move into a house, and…”

 

“Fairy tales,” Havia interrupted. “It’s all made up, Amanda. I’ll bet your family never had money.”

 

“We did!” Amanda said, wishing she could keep her voice from trembling. She could see the doubt settling on those closest to her.

 

“Sure,” Jenner scoffed. “I should have known you were strange, especially when you spent all your time last year with that Vulcan.”

 

“I had no choice,” she said even as she knew it wasn’t the truth.

 

“I don’t believe that,” Jenner continued as his friends silently egged him on. “I think you liked hanging out with that pointed eared freak. The only reason I invited you to the dance is because I heard you were easy.”

 

“Easy?” Amanda dully said as she saw Villia’s eyes widen.

 

“You don’t know what he means!” Villia said with a victorious squeal. “You are so naïve!”

 

“Stop it,” Amanda whispered as she listened to the growing guffaws of the crowd that was feeding off the misery of someone other than themselves.

 

“Rheb said that you were all over him last year after the homecoming dance,” Jenner said with a half grin. “He said he barely had time to get you to his flitter before you started to undress.”

 

“That’s a lie!” Amanda yelled as the outrage shook her entire being. “He’s a damned liar!”

 

“So, you’re a virgin?” Villia coyly asked with a smirk. Amanda opened, and then closed her mouth as she realized what had happened. She’d walked right into their trap. Her mind raced as she tried to find a way to salvage any kind of a reputation. If she said yes, then she wasn’t adult enough. If she said no, then she was a whore. What to say…

 

“If I am or not isn’t important,” she said as she locked eyes with the taller brunette who’d asked the question. “At least I’m not a slut like you.”

 

With a shriek of indignation, Villia grabbed Amanda by the hair even as the shorter girl tried to back away, but was stopped by those behind her. Fortunately, the deep voice of the assistant principal cut through the high-pitched fervor caused by the fight. Both girls were led away amidst the wild speculation of the students about what would happen to them.

 

Almost 20 minutes passed while the students went back to the dance and tried to ignore the curiosity that the fight had caused. Suddenly, the door to the reception area opened, and Villia came back in with a pleased look on her face. Swiftly surrounded by her eager crowd of friends, the girl waited a dramatic moment as the group quieted.

 

“What happened?” Jenner asked as he looked at the door. Surely he wasn’t expected to take Amanda back to that crappy apartment she lived in.

 

“Nothing that I didn’t expect,” Villia said with a toss of her hair. “Principal Tebber heard both sides of the story, and then called our parents.”

 

“Are you going to be suspended for fighting?” Havia asked.

 

“Of course not!” Villia triumphantly crowed as she watched Amanda emerge from the other room and slink out a side door. “My father actually has money as opposed to those who pretend that they’re someone. After the comm call from my father, Tebber was ready to suspend Amanda immediately. She’s out.”

 

The crowd quickly congratulated the girl for her ability to get out of trouble, and the dance began in earnest now that those who truly deserved to be there were victorious over those of a lesser caliber.

 

Amanda stood outside of the schools gate for several minutes, numbly staring at the dazzling lights in the reception area. Her heart was pounding with fear over what would happen now that she’d been suspended. Suspended! She’d never even been in trouble at school before, and now she was out for 3 days. How had her status gone from popular to despised? Looking down at the dress, she saw a small snag near the hemline. That was just great, she thought as her throat constricted in outraged indignation. She’d torn her dress and had no way to get back to her apartment. Jenner had deserted her in a most humiliating manner. Principal Tebber had tried to contact her parents, but they weren’t at home, and for some reason, their instacall numbers also went unanswered. Listening to the thump of the music that emanated from the building, Amanda stood silently as she first calmed her anger, and then unfalteringly looked up. Although she could feel the tiny jabs of hurt pinching her abdomen, she wasn’t going to let those egotistical bastards win.

 

“With friends like this, who needs enemies,” she said in a surprisingly smooth manner. After a few moments, she kicked off her low-heeled pumps and grasped them in her left hand as she got her bearings. Steadily, she started to walk along the darkened sidewalk illuminated in that part of the city only by the lights that shown out from the surrounding buildings. It was going to be a very long night, but she was determined.

 

She was going home.

 

 

Chapter 10 – The Apparition

 

“Mr. Spock, the women on your planet are logical. That’s the only planet in the galaxy that can make that claim.” (Kirk – Elaan of Troyius)

 

 

Amanda’s decision to walk home from the dance wasn’t necessarily an impossible task, but almost immediately she realized that there was a problem. She’d always taken either public transportation or been driven to any place in the city she needed to go. Upon arrival at the shuttle station nearest the school, a sign announced that regularly scheduled maintenance was underway and the station would be closed until morning. A street map featuring nearby stations had been damaged and was unreadable. She’d never been to any of the other stations and had no credits for any other form of transport. Landmarks that she took for granted from the windows of a comfortable flitter or shuttle now seemed to have disappeared in the nighttime gloom.

 

As the cool dankness of the evening began to envelop her, she felt her pace slowing as her sense of orientation suffered and her jangled nerves began to exert their control. Every sound seemed amplified and every shadowy movement appeared to be a threat. Stumbling to a halt, Amanda checked her location. The street name that glowed softly against the growing haze was familiar to her, but why? Her mind raced to answer the question even as a flitter turned onto the street and slowly passed her. Again, her imagination began to exert itself. Even if the flitter had slowed, it was probably because of the strange sight of a teenaged girl wearing a formal walking the streets of San Francisco in the middle of the night. There was nothing to be afraid of, she firmly told herself as she tried to determine whether to go right or left. 

 

Glancing around at the deserted street, she again felt the almost overwhelming familiarity. She knew this street, if only she could remember. Sighing in relief, it finally struck her that the street was close to the Embassies that would be at the bottom of the hill near the bay. All she needed to do was go to the Earth embassy, identify herself… She stopped. That wouldn’t do at all. Her parents would be furious enough to learn that she’d been suspended. The idea of her going to her father’s place of employment and begging for a ride home was out of the question. As much as she wanted to get home, she just couldn’t go to the embassy. If only T’Spia were still at the Vulcan embassy! Amanda knew she could have contacted her and gotten a ride with no questions asked. The girl bit her lip as she thought about that. The Vulcan had always told her that if she ever needed assistance, she could go to the embassy. Did she dare? The flitter she’d seen earlier passed her again, and she made up her mind. She’d go to the Vulcan embassy, mention that she was T’Spia’s friend, and humbly request a ride to her apartment. Feeling better with a plan, no matter how feeble it was, Amanda confidently strode along the sidewalk in the direction of the Vulcan embassy; at least, she hoped she was going in the right direction…

 

A contented sigh escaped as she saw the illumination of the stonewalled Vulcan embassy just ahead. There appeared to be no change in the intimidating exterior from the last time she had been there. The main gate was securely closed, and she knew that there were numerous monitors following her every move now that she stood in front of the comm unit that was mounted next to the gate. The hieroglyphics that used to be so indecipherable to her now were clear as she pressed the assistance key. The blank screen was swiftly filled with the face of a Vulcan female Amanda didn’t recognize. For a moment, they stared at each other; then, the screen went blank. A groan of disbelief emerged as Amanda realized her mistake. She’d been told that it was impolite to speak until addressed by an older individual, but the Vulcan obviously thought she was just a prankster. Shaking her head at her folly, she pressed the key again. This time, it took several seconds before the screen cleared and the same female face appeared. Before the connection was broken, the girl spoke.

 

“Ha, osu,” Amanda swiftly said as she watched the woman’s eyes widen at her use of the language. “Amanda wimish. Gol-tor bolau.”

 

The woman on the screen said nothing as she continued to stare at the girl. Amanda silently wondered if her Vulcan was really that dreadful or if T’Spia’s criticism was just her usual perfectionist qualities wielding themselves. The screen suddenly cleared again, and Amanda felt her spirits fall. Now what was she supposed to do? Then, she heard the grinding of ancient gears and the gates slowly swung inward. A low-lying fog had crept into the compound and gave it a ghostly ground cover. Looking down, she couldn’t even see her feet that were beginning to protest their unprotected state. Squaring her shoulder blades and readjusting her grip on her shoes, she assertively entered the compound even as the gates with mechanical efficiency began to close.

 

As the gates clanged shut behind her, Amanda started at the unexpectedly loud noise. She didn’t remember the gate making so much racket in the past when she was taking the course. Gazing through the fog, she waited for the Vulcan woman on the screen to emerge and assist her. Just as she expected her to do, the woman appeared from out of the mist and motioned for her to follow. They didn’t go to the main embassy offices, but went to a smaller building that Amanda thought had been used as a security outpost. Upon entering the building, the woman turned and rapidly said something to her. Amanda blinked in surprise as she considered the possibility that the woman thought she was more fluent than she really was. Shrugging, the girl gave the Vulcan a weak smile as she tried to remember the word for ‘slower’. The security guard apparently understood the girl’s hesitation as she spoke again, but this time in Standard.

 

“Why did you ask for help?” the woman asked with a heavily accented lilt.

 

“I was abandoned at a school function,” Amanda said as she noticed the woman’s nearly imperceptible lean toward her. Obviously, they were in a similar position in terms of understanding each other. “I have no way to get home, and I was hopeful that as a friend of T’Spia’s, I might be able to request assistance,” she concluded simply and waited for the woman to say something.

 

“One moment,” the Vulcan said as she left the room. Amanda was beginning to have second thoughts about her decision to go to the embassy. Maybe it would have been better if she’d just tried to walk home.

 

In the small alcove off of the main security office, T’Nir keyed in the comm number of her supervisor to ask for assistance. The situation involving the strange human girl who spoke broken Vulcan was not part of her training program. 

 

“Yes, T’Nir?” Sasep immediately said as his imposing bass voice resounded through the unit.

 

“Sir, four point two minutes ago a human girl, perhaps ten years old, pressed the exterior unit assistance key. I responded and first believed the contact was nothing but a human ‘joke’.” She tilted her head as she considered the illogic of such actions by humans. “However, she pressed the key again, and this time spoke a rather oddly accented Vulcan. She is requesting our assistance to return to her home.”

 

“Where is the girl at this time?” Sasep inquired as he narrowed his eyes at the irrational action of one of his junior security officers. “You did not leave her alone within our compound?”

 

“She is in the next room,” T’Nir replied.

 

“Tell her that we are not a transport service,” the Security chief said with a hint of annoyance in his tone. “You should not have opened the gate for such a reason.”

 

“Yes sir,” the Vulcan woman agreed, “I believed that she was in some distress and was not aware of the girl’s actual reason for requesting entry. She identified herself as Amanda and said that she was a friend of T’Spia’s.”

 

Sasep glared at the screen even as he realized whom the girl probably was. “One moment,” he stiffly said as he considered his options. Perhaps it would be best to quietly escort the young girl to her home. He could take one of the unmarked vehicles and have her to her place of residence before the ambassador and his aide exited the chamber room where they were currently negotiating with a small human contingency from one of the Rigel colonies. 

 

“Bring an unmarked vehicle around to the gate,” Sasep ordered as he made his decision. The screen went blank, and the Vulcan stared at it a moment. The human girl was a nuisance as far as he was concerned, but he was aware of the uncharacteristic significance the ambassador placed on her even as he knew not to ask questions.

 

Amanda remained standing as she waited for the Vulcan woman to return. The office was neatly designed for efficiency with one wall dedicated to a series of screens that showed the entire embassy compound from what seemed to be every perceivable angle. Since it was night, there was very little activity except for the occasional guard making their round. Bored with waiting, she wondered why she hadn’t been able to reach her parents. They never went anywhere and should have been at home. The instacall number always worked in the past; however, if there was an emergency code punched in, then there would be no way to break in. That was worrisome. Was there a problem at home? Was someone sick? Amanda was already concerned about Nanny’s health. The woman’s health had been slowly deteriorating, and with her advanced age, there was always the chance that she might quickly become ill or even die. Glaring at the door, she wished someone would come in and tell her something. When the door remained closed, she returned to watching the screens that were set into the wall. One of the monitored halls had a touch screen popup that was marked in a way that she didn’t recognize. Studying the lettering, she finally decided that one of the words was ‘sleep’. Perhaps it was a way to turn off the screen? There was one way to find out…

 

She kept one eye on the door as she gently touched the screen, and the scene changed. A darkened room lit with what appeared to be a fire pit appeared, and as she peered curiously at the sight, it dawned on her that it was a bedroom. The rectangular bed against the far wall was the only indication, and judging from the crisply folded sheets, it hadn’t been slept in. A mischievous glint entered her eyes as she realized there were other popups on the screen, and surely one of those bedrooms was occupied…

 

“What are you doing?” a booming voice demanded, and Amanda yelped in shock as she took a few quick steps away from the screen. The Security chief crossed the room and, with a few quick passes of his hand over the screen, returned it to the hall scene. 

 

“Nothing,” she lied as her face flushed red at being caught.

 

“Come with me,” the chief darkly ordered as he escorted the human out into the courtyard and to the waiting flitter. The sooner he got her out of the embassy, the better.

 

Exiting the council chamber, Skon, Sennar, and Sarek escorted their Rigellian counterparts to their guest quarters. The Rigellian system was a vast array of planets that had developed in such differing ways that it was nearly impossible to get a consensus from all the different planetary governments. The Rigellians they were meeting with were making the rounds between the Embassies on Earth and had been negotiating nonstop for nearly two days with the Vulcans over the mining rights on their planet. This group consisted of humans, not the native reptilian beings, who had made their home on a mineral rich world in the Rigel system.

 

The Main embassy building was centrally located, with a small courtyard that was generally empty at that time of the night. As the cool evening air filled their lungs, the Rigellian contingency abruptly stopped in their tracks. 

 

“It cannot be!” the oldest member of the group exclaimed as the others around him gasped and pointed shaky fingers at a flitter that was inexplicably out of the embassy transport depot and parked near the security office.

 

“What is it, Delzanz?” Skon asked as he tried to determine the many whys of the situation. Why were the Rigelllians distressed by a flitter…why was a flitter out at that point in the evening…why was there a girl…

 

“You do not see her?” Delzanz asked as he cowered behind one of the larger members of his group. “It is the eless! An omen from the faraway land!”

 

Skon, Sennar, and Sarek each took turns looking puzzled by the proclamation of the Rigellian even as the contingency stared in terrified disbelief at the flitter that was now leaving. Skon was tempted to stop the vehicle to clear up the identity of the passenger…that was, until he saw that it was a young human girl who looked very familiar. As the flitter left the compound, all of the Rigellians began to chant in their language and wave their vibrantly festooned arms above their heads. The Vulcans observed the display impassively as the group leader turned to them.

 

“The eless is the rarest deity of our people!” Delzanz excitedly explained. “An eless is the bringer of great prosperity, but she has been angry with us. It has been many of our years since one has been spotted.”

 

Skon did not wish to destroy the illusion that Delzanz and the other Rigellians firmly believed, but he could not allow them to report that a mystical being had appeared in the Vulcan compound. Thoughts of pilgrims making their way to his doorstep sent an imperceptible shiver though his spine as he carefully considered his choices. Surprisingly, Sarek caught his attention and raised a brow as he nodded toward the rapturous beings. Skon shrugged his approval as his son raised his head to speak.

 

“Delzanz, I am certain that the eless has great power and is highly respected by your people,” he offered as the leader turned his attention to the Vulcan, “is it possible that the appearance of the eless is the sign that you sought earlier in the day?”

 

Skon did not want to give credence to the belief and briefly wondered if his son understood what he was doing. The Rigellians were constantly looking for ways to either agree or disagree based upon the incomprehensible cues that were around them. One conference held several months earlier had ended suddenly when one of the younger aliens claimed that the appearance of a seagull on the windowsill was a bad omen. The other had wholeheartedly agreed, and three months of negotiations came to naught.

 

“It might be,” Delzanz agreed as the others continued to chant. “I have often wondered why the spirits were unhappy with our off-world travels. Now, they are satisfied.” Coming to a conclusion, the leader said something that quieted the others, much to the relief of the Vulcans. “We shall sign the required documents in the morning. Now, we must praise Welliak, our Mother god, for the sign.”

 

The Rigellians were still in a state of exhilaration over the ‘vision’ even as they made their way to their guest rooms. Skon folded his arms across his chest as he thoughtfully watched their departure. Sarek and Sennar instinctively copied the ambassador as they listened to the excited cadence of the Rigellians that only ended as the exterior door closed. Skon immediately turned to his son.

 

“Was it wise to give credence to such a fantastical story?” he asked as Sennar came to stand next to his friend.

 

“I did not give the story credence, sir,” Sarek respectfully said. They were still in diplomatic mode, and he would not address his father as such until their discussion was concluded. “I merely asked if the sighting was the sign that the Rigellians treasure so.”

 

“But, you should have dismissed the idea immediately,” Sennar declared as Skon continued to stand before the exterior door. The mists appeared to be deepening and the shadowy outline of the lit buildings glowed softly in the night. “Now, the Rigellians will report that they agreed to the negotiations based on a fallacy. More to the point, it will seem that we misled them into that false assumption.”

 

“Perhaps,” Skon quietly replied as he moved forward. The two Vulcans joined him as he entered the same building as the Rigellians. The guest quarters were located on the first floor, with the living quarters of several of the embassy staff located on the second and third floors. “Sarek did not encourage the already accepted belief, Sennar,” he finally stated as they emerged from the elevator and into the third floor hall. “He asked if it was the sign the Rigellians have been looking for. With beings that are so oriented to their own ways, we must adjust our ways as well. To discount what they believed they saw would be imprudent and detrimental to our needs.” They paused near the ambassador’s rooms as Skon turned with his back to the door. “Sennar, my friend, you shall soon need to find another for your assistant.” 

 

With nothing further said, the ambassador raised his hand into the ta’al, nodded as the others copied his action, and then entered his apartment. Sennar and Sarek silently went to their rooms. Generally, Sennar would reveal his plans for the following days activities, but this night he entered his quarters without a word. Sarek stood in the empty hall for a moment as he carefully considered the situation. It was odd that his father offered no explanation for the presence of the peculiarly dressed human girl in the compound. He had given no indication that questions were welcomed on the topic, and Sarek had wisely not asked. Still…

 

He entered his room as he considered the fleeting glimpse of the girl he’d seen. He was not comfortable in making estimates about the age of humans, but she appeared quite young with long brunette curls held up rather haphazardly by some hairpins. He had only seen her in profile, and with her pale skin and light green dress, there appeared to be nothing extraordinary about her. Why she would be allowed access to a flitter was a mystery that he hoped would be explained in the morning.

 

As he prepared for bed, something in the corner of his room caught his attention. He was well aware of the security precautions that had been enacted after a disastrous event on Bellean Three that were the result of privacy over security. The Belleans had entered the designated Federation embassy on their planet and killed an entire diplomatic entourage as they slept. With no evidence other than what the exterior security cameras offered, no one was captured or convicted of the horrific crime. Sarek generally ignored the security camera, but a tiny pinpoint of light was flashing. Apparently, the camera had been activated in his absence. Pressing the comm unit key, he waited for the security officer on duty to answer.

 

“May I be of assistance?” the female voice responded almost immediately.

 

“Yes,” Sarek replied as he continued to consider the flashing light. “Apparently, a security camera was activated in my room. What is the justification?”

 

An uncharacteristic long pause was his only answer until a different voice responded. He immediately recognized Sasep’s deep bass as the Vulcan Security chief replied.

 

“An error, sir,” the Vulcan reassured as Sarek heard the hum of the vehicle in the background. “It was merely an error that will not occur again.”

 

“Very well,” Sarek replied as the connection ended. Even before the conclusion of their conversation, the security light stopped flashing and returned to normal status. Shaking his head slightly as he considered the events of the day, Sarek briefly considered going immediately to bed, but the flickering light of the fire pot beckoned. Meditation would be beneficial after such a bewildering day.

 

Sasep glanced into the rear view mirror at the solemn girl. It was really quite fascinating, he decided. Out of the twenty-six concealed screens she could have selected, she had chosen the one that belonged to Skon’s son.

 

Yes, it was most fascinating.

 

\-----

 

Amanda had expected the ride to her apartment to be uncomfortable, but she hadn’t expected the growing mix of panic and queasiness that seemed to churn within her as the flitter got closer and closer to her home. It was going to be an absolute catastrophe, and she knew it. It had surprised her that the driver didn’t ask for an address or street. Was she so well known that everyone in the Vulcan embassy knew her? If so, that couldn’t be good. Being notorious wasn’t her intent, but it seemed to be her luck as the flitter skimmed along the deserted streets. Checking the vehicle’s chrono, she bemoaned the fact that it was 0112 hours. She was out well past her curfew…not that it mattered, she morosely thought. The suspension would probably make the broken curfew appear minor. 

 

They came to an intersection only a block from her apartment complex and stopped. Sasep turned his broad body to look into the back seat.

 

“I shall let you out here,” he stated as the door opened. “It would be preferential not to say that you requested a ride from us.” His slightly demeaning manner would have bothered Amanda if she could focus on anything other than the imagined worse.

 

“Nash-veh odu itaren,” she softly said as the vehicle door opened. Sasep nodded his acceptance of the gratitude for the ride.

 

“Dif-tor heh smusma,” he stated as the girl leaned down to look back into the flitter.

 

“No,” she pessimistically sighed. “Once my parents find out what happened, I probably won’t have enough time to even plan my funeral.”

 

“Oh?” Sasep said as he considered what the girl had said. Amanda realized she needed to clarify her sarcastic remark before the Security chief assumed she was serious.

 

“No, forget I said that. I’ll be all right,” she insisted as she stood and stepped away from the curb. The Vulcan said nothing as the door slid back into place and the flitter disappeared into the darkness. Amanda had hoped that by the time she got to the apartment she would have a well thought out rationalization for the suspension; however, as she walked slowly up the sidewalk, nothing except the truth revealed itself as a defense. Not that it mattered, she bitterly thought as she entered the foyer of her building. There was no doubt in her mind that any reasons she brought up for what happened would be torn apart by her mother. Steeling herself for the worse, Amanda entered the apartment and wasn’t surprised that both her Dad and Mother were waiting for her. The fact that they were both there seemed to her to indicate that there wasn’t an emergency elsewhere, which was the only good she could think of at the moment.

 

“Hi!” she optimistically greeted them even as she dramatically yawned. “What a night! Well, it’s time for bed. Good night!” Although she desperately tried, she didn’t even get into the hallway.

 

“Amanda,” John said in a monotone of barely contained fury. “Mr. Tebber contacted us this evening.”

 

Freezing in her tracks, the girl took in a ragged breath as she prepared to speak, but John wasn’t finished.

 

“What in all the worlds caused you to fight at a dance? I thought you were more mature than that,” he said as his eyes bored into her. “Now you’ve been suspended. This is the type of behavior I would have expected from Dan when he was top level. Not even he was ever suspended.”

 

“Dad, I can explain,” she started, but her mother was now up and striding toward her.

 

“I can’t believe that you’re actually trying to defend yourself!” Maura coolly rebuffed. “Of all the people to pick on, you go after Villia Van Horn. Do you know who her father is? He’s only one of the most powerful men in San Francisco!”

 

John was too angry to stop the berating, but he was surprised that Amanda was not making any move to counter her mother’s take on the situation. He stepped in to demand answers, but Maura surprised him by spinning around to block him.

 

“Don’t you dare defend her, John! You know she’s completely destroyed her academic and social future, and I don’t want you to coddle her with lies about how everything is all right.” Maura turned her sharp comments back to Amanda, who blankly stared at a picture that was hanging against a far wall in the living room. “Mr. Tebber said that Jenner had planned to bring you home, but you left with someone else. Do you know what they call girls that do that, Amanda? I see that you’ve also destroyed your dress,” she angrily spat out as she also began to wonder why her daughter wasn’t responding.

 

“Amanda, don’t you have anything to say?” John asked in exasperation. The girl appeared to be mesmerized by something behind them. 

 

“What can I say?” she whispered as she blinked furiously to stop the tears. “You’ve already made up your minds about my guilt. I have nothing to say.”

 

“Don’t you dare say that Mr. Tebber lied to us!” Maura lividly ordered. “He said that he was just as appalled by your actions as we were. How could you do this to us? How could you have dragged your family name through the mud like this?”

 

The silence dragged on for several seconds as both John and Maura waited for a clever retort or a raging temper tantrum…anything was better than nothing. A slight shiver from his daughter caught John’s eye, and he pointed down the hall.

 

“Go to your room, get a change of clothes, and get cleaned up,” he insisted even as he felt the disbelieving gasp from his wife. “You’ll catch a cold standing there in that damp formal.”

 

“John, I can’t believe you!” Maura yelled incredulously. “You’re going to let her get away with even this? You always defend her!”

 

“I don’t want her to get sick!” John yelled back, taking his wife off-guard by the heat in his reply. “We’ll deal with what happened at the school after she changes.”

 

With no option given, Amanda did as she was told. The formal was a complete loss since the rip in the material was not along a seam. She threw it into a corner of her room as she pulled on a casual pair of drawstring flannel pants and shrugged on a long-sleeved T-shirt. It wasn’t until she looked in the mirror at her disheveled appearance that she really took a hard look at the shirt. The ‘Brantley’ name brandished across it in bold print seemed to mock her. Tugging it off, it joined the dress in the corner of the room as she found another shirt with no ornamentation. Her hair was a total disaster, and it took almost twenty minutes to painstakingly pull out all the hairpins and brush out the unruly mane. Stepping into a pair of bright red slippers, she calmed her nerves as best as she could, and went back into the living room.

 

“Question,” John said absently as he wondered if Amanda’s choice of clothing was meant to emphasize her youth. “Who drove you home this evening? I want you to answer me truthfully.”

 

Amanda started at the disappointed tone. Again, she could feel the threatening dam of tears about to burst, but she swallowed hard and kept it at bay.

 

“I tried to call here, but there was no answer,” she said even as she saw a look pass between her parents. Now what?

 

“Never mind that right now,” John tersely said. He knew full well what had happened. Maura had mentioned how much she hated the instacall ‘call waiting’ feature and had disabled it only a few weeks earlier. He had discovered the tampering and planned to get it fixed, but it hadn’t seemed like a priority. Clearing his throat, he raised a questioning eyebrow as he spread his hands apart.

 

“Well? How did you get here? You didn’t have enough time to walk home.” Despite his irritation at her actions at Brantley, he silently thanked whatever forces had gotten his daughter safely home. The thought of her trying to get home, alone and vulnerable, with no way to contact them was nearly too much for him to comfortably stomach. He’d fix the instacall immediately…

 

“I went to the embassy and got a ride,” Amanda simply said. Maura, who had sat down on the couch after the girl went to her room to change, now stood, her mouth agape in shock.

 

“Not only have you embarrassed us at the school, but now everyone at the embassy knows?” Closing her eyes, she put her right hand up to her forehead. “You just want to make things worse, don’t you? Why didn’t you take the shuttle, or do you believe that you’re too good to ride it home?”

 

“The shuttle station was closed for maintenance,” Amanda sharply said. Before she said anything further, she remembered something T’Spia had said about focusing on remaining in control of a volatile situation. She needed to keep her voice level…don’t get mad…don’t give into the temptation of retaliation, no matter what…

 

“Closed? You expect us to believe that?” Maura taunted as she glared at her husband. “See? She’ll tell us anything to keep from telling us the truth.”

 

“I can check with shuttle management to verify if that station was closed tonight,” John said as he tried to read his daughter. She was far calmer than she usually was in such a situation. “So, was it Knight or Petrelli who drove you home?”

 

“Neither,” Amanda said evenly as she prepared for the upcoming furor. “I went to the Vulcan embassy and got a ride from the Security chief, Sasep.”

 

“WHAT?” Both John and Maura staring in abject shock at their daughter following the simultaneous outcry. John recovered before his stunned wife.

 

“Amanda, why did you go to the Vulcans?” he implored. He knew his daughter had become good friends with T’Spia, but since her return to Vulcan, the woman had not contacted Amanda at all. He knew she was terribly disappointed by the lack of communication.

 

“I didn’t want to humiliate you by going to the Earth embassy,” the girl said as she again felt the lump beginning to grow in her throat. She so badly wanted to cry, but that would be a sign of weakness. She’d rather die…

 

“So, you went to the Vulcan embassy and begged them for a ride home?” Maura said as she continued to nurse her forehead. She had apparently developed quite a headache. “You think that’s better? Now, the Vulcans will look at us humans as a bunch of incompetent fools!”

 

“Maura, stop,” John hissed. He was getting tired of hearing her continuous condemnation and needed a moment to gather his thoughts. Maura lowered her hand and pointed it at Amanda.

 

“She’s determined to get into trouble at every turn. What an incredible waste of tuition we’ve thrown on her! Why, she…”

 

“Shut up, Maura!” John said as his incensed eyes burned in her direction. “I’m sick and tired of hearing you berate her constantly! Now, stop it!”

 

“You always defend her,” Maura countered, her face screwed up into a tight mask of rage. “She could be a damned murderer and you’d find a way to support her.”

 

“Someone needs to,” John directly said as he watched Amanda’s too serene look. Ironically, that agitated his slowly settling nerves and he ended up speaking more harshly than he intended. “Amanda, you still haven’t answered my question. Why did you go to the Vulcans?”

 

Her blue eyes were locked on a spot on the floor, but slowly came up at the inquiry. While her sleepwear made her look like a child in search of a teddy bear, her eyes had an uncanny maturity that John had never seen in them before.

 

“Why did I go to the Vulcans?” she repeated in a level tone. Although he had asked the question, Amanda found her mother’s hard eyes as she casually smiled. “I went to the Vulcans because I trust them.”

 

With nothing further said, she left the living room and went directly to her bedroom. Maura appeared ready to go after the girl, but John shook his head as he held up a hand. Resigned by her statement, he sank into a chair next to the couch even as Maura glared with resolute intensity at him.

 

“Are you just going to let her get away with that?” she groaned in frustration. “Why do you let her get away with things like that?” she repeated when it seemed that John wasn’t listening. With no response, Maura stormed to their bedroom to try to go to sleep. She knew that her husband would eventually join her.

 

Sitting in the now darkened room, John couldn’t remember ever feeling so powerless. It had to be some universal joke being played on him. Forcing himself to stand, he walked to a sliding glass door that led to a small balcony that overlooked the small stretch of grass that separated their building from the next. The cold night air caused an involuntary tremor, but it didn’t compare to the numb feeling that was gripping his heart. Did Skon have it planned from the beginning that Amanda would lose her faith in him and Maura? Was that his ruthless scheme from the start? It didn’t seem likely, but he was desperate for answers and the Vulcan was an easy target. Skon didn’t need to do a thing to disrupt their already strained family relationship. John shivered again as he recalled Ambassador Agani’s mention of the notorious Vulcan patience. John had already decided that if the amendment weren’t found, he would threaten to reveal everything about Vulcans that he had learned in confidence. It wasn’t very upstanding of him, but John wasn’t going to lose his daughter. He shivered again and went back indoors. The dull sensation of dread welled up in him as a thought occurred.

 

He didn’t want to lose Amanda, but it might already be too late.

 

 

Sarek slowly opened his eyes as the morning light streamed into his room. His time sense permitted adequate time to prepare for what he believed would be the final meeting between the Rigellian contingency and the Vulcan delegation. As he stepped into the sonics, he again considered the events of the previous evening. Hours of negotiation and debate appeared to be ineffective compared to the unanticipated appearance of the human girl in the flitter. As the waves cleansed him, he carefully prepared his closing argument in case there was any further hesitancy in the Rigellians. While his father was the one dealing directly with Delzanz, he and Sennar had been left to sway the others toward allowing for the non-intrusive mining operation. Except for a small plot of land above ground, the valuable minerals would be excavated from within vast caverns under the planet’s surface. Only what was needed would be removed, and then the lands would be restored to their previous state.

 

Dressing in the official garments of an assistant, Sarek’s eyes were drawn to the refined ceremonial robes hanging in his closet that he had worn on Sigma Omicron as a senior diplomat. The robes were in pristine condition and had been carefully sealed to prevent any damage to them. Since his father’s remark last night, Sarek knew that his return to a formal diplomatic position would only be a matter of time. He’d learned a great deal as Sennar’s assistant, not the least of which was that he valued the diplomatic career his father envisioned for him more than before. It was always wise to listen to the Elders, and that was something Sarek had every intention of doing. 

 

As expected, the Rigellians readily agreed to the terms and signed all the required documents. As the group left to do some sightseeing in the area, the Vulcans spent the rest of the morning working out the details of the Rigellians planetary excavation. By midmeal, Skon could sense that his son wanted to ask some questions, and he had no doubt that what he wanted to know had nothing to do with the Rigellians. Sarek occasionally glanced at his father, and then would focus back to the task at hand. Even Sennar had cast several inquisitive looks in the general direction of father and son. As they completed their work, the ambassador addressed his son.

 

“Sarekam,” Skon said, effectively ending the diplomatic reserve between them. “You have been extraordinarily contemplative for the past 2.324 hours.”

 

“Yes, father,” Sarek agreed. “I have been attempting to understand why a human girl was granted access to our embassy.”

 

“I see,” the older Vulcan replied as he stood to stretch. “You are curious about her?”

 

“I am curious as to why a human would warrant such extraordinary generosity,” Sarek corrected as he also stood. The final report was complete, and he would spend the afternoon at Sennar’s office as required.

 

“She was one of the humans who attended a course that was offered on Vulcan ways,” Skon easily replied. It was not much in the way of an explanation, but it would suffice for the moment. “What is your initial impression of her?” he asked to transition into a different subject matter.

 

Sarek frowned slightly. His impression? He had not even met the human. Quickly, he came to the conclusion that Skon’s question was a test of his observational skills.

 

“She appears to be a member of the Caucasian race of humans, is young, brunette…” He paused as he calculated her likely height. “Based on the limited information I could garner from her appearance in the flitter’s window, I would estimate her height as between 155 and 165 centimeters. Weight of perhaps 47 to 48 kilograms based on what I would calculate as customary for her height.”

 

“Anything else?” Skon offhandedly asked as he closed his monitor station.

 

“She was wearing a light green top that appeared to be of a more formal cut than that of casual wear.” Again, he paused as he wondered where the conversation was going. “She wore her hair up, although the style would not be considered Vulcan appropriate.”

 

“Yes, I noticed that,” Skon agreed as he gathered several computer chits that contained details from the meeting. “You have answered sufficiently.”

 

Sarek nodded his gratitude as they exited the room. “I come to serve,” he said with a hint of lightness in the tone. Surprisingly, Skon slowed his pace and gave his son a thoughtful look.

 

“Yes,” the older Vulcan said with an amenable raise of his left eyebrow. “That is what I expect.”

 

 

“I’m sorry, John,” Agani said as she rearranged a stack of documents on her desk. “Martinez has more experience, and that’s what I need in Boston.”

 

“Ambassador, you don’t understand,” John said, not caring that his tone was reaching a desperate pitch. “I have to move back to the East Coast. I’ve already told Maura about the position, and Amanda…” He swallowed hard as he continued. “Amanda needs a change of scenery, too.”

 

“This has nothing to do with you personally,” Agani stated as she grimaced. She hated to deny a promising diplomat a promotion, but she had to be fair. “You know that I’d give you the job if you were the most qualified.”

 

John primed himself to say something more, but he knew it was fruitless. “I understand,” he ultimately said as he leaned back into his chair. “Do you know if there will be any other positions opening up soon?”

 

Agani gave him a sympathetic smile as she answered. “It depends on how well the office performs. It’s possible that by next year I’ll need more personnel there.”

 

“I’ll keep my eye on the postings, then,” he said as he forced his features to a pleasant appearance. Agani didn’t miss the strain around his eyes as she sighed.

 

“John, I promise that I’ll let you know if something opens up.”

 

“Thank you,” he calmly said as the connection ended. Hitting the desktop with his fist, he pushed away from the desk and took in several shaky breaths as he regained control of his temper. Now what was he supposed to do? He’d already checked the employment scans from several East Coast agencies, but nothing fit his qualifications. 

 

Since the suspension, the tension between Amanda and her parents hadn’t dissipated; if anything, it seemed to be intensifying. John had made a point of letting Skon know about the suspension with the hopes that the Vulcan would drop his end of the bargain. After all, would the Vulcan really want his son to be bonded to a ‘troublemaker’? Instead of ending the bonding obligation, Skon contacted the school and talked directly with the Assistant Principal. While the suspension remained a black mark on her record, the ambassador seemed satisfied that there was no reason to sever the agreement. John could only puzzle over that. Tebber had been unusually nervous whenever John spoke with him. Was it possible that the man had taken the other girl’s side based on her father’s position? Was it possible that Amanda was punished because she was considered ‘expendable’? The more he considered the possibilities, the deeper he slipped into a depressed state. Maura was openly questioning how Amanda could possibly get into college with her ‘poor’ conduct, and John felt that he wasn’t doing enough to defend the girl. The hurt glances she would give him told him volumes. Something had to change, but what?

 

Amanda kept her grades up throughout the year and John was pleased to see that she still went out with friends on the weekends. The first month after the homecoming dance had been rough, but she bounced back and ignored the crowd that had snubbed her. Surprisingly, by the time the Senior Prom came around, she was asked by several top level boys to attend and seemed quite happy to accept Ebbe’s invitation. John wondered if it was just a façade or if she was really that resilient. On the other hand, learning that Ebbe had been dating Villia just prior to Amanda’s acceptance of his offer to attend the prom made John secretly grin at her audacity.

 

Her graduation from Brantley was approaching rapidly, and the entire family planned to attend. While Nancy wanted to come, the travel would be too hard on her fragile health, so she sent her gift of several antique hardback books with a card of congratulations several weeks in advance. Dan arrived and immediately began to give his little sister a difficult time about the suspension. Matt and Ming barely made it to the ceremony due to a scheduling conflict involving Matt’s part time job at Harvard. John was very pleased to get his family together for the momentous event, and he beamed proudly as his daughter crossed the stage and received her diploma. It was quite an accomplishment for the 16 year old, and as he considered her future, he ignored the nagging question of the Brantley tuition repayment. In the fall, he’d find a way to pay her college tuition without any strings attached. In the fall, he’d only have one year left…he shuddered, which caught the attention of Matt.

 

“Dad, are you all right?” the young man asked as Ming hugged his arm. John nodded as they walked through the crowded auditorium to find Amanda.

 

“Yes, I’m fine,” John replied as he caught sight of his daughter. She was laughing and appeared brilliantly radiant in her cap and gown. The pangs of panic gripped him as he approached and pulled her tightly into a bear hug. Giggling at the action, she pushed away and rolled her eyes.

 

“Dad, stop it! You’ll embarrass me if you cry,” she said even as he noticed her eyes were bright.

 

“Oh, I’ll try not to cry, but I don’t care. I’m just so proud of you!” he insisted as he blinked hard.

 

“Yes, you did very well under the circumstances,” Maura said as she watched the emotional display. John could practically feel the deflation of the mood as Amanda turned to her mother.

 

“Thank you,” she simply said, and then suddenly brightened again. Matt, Ming, and Dan were weaving through the crowd and now surrounded her. Matt grabbed her and she squealed as he swung her off her feet.

 

“You did it!” he shouted proudly to anyone in the vicinity to hear. “I’m so proud of you!”

 

“Oh, Matty, thanks!” she breathlessly said as he set her back down.

 

“Yeah, not bad, squirt,” Dan said with a crooked smirk. “It’s not Rivers, but Brantley is a pretty good school.”

 

“Thank you, I think,” Amanda replied with a smile. It was a close to a compliment as she expected from Dan, and she’d take it.

 

“Yes, congratulations,” Ming also offered with a bright smile. Amanda hugged her, and then their small group followed the rest of the crowd out of the auditorium and into the reception area. A string quartet was playing in one corner of the vast room, but it was nearly overwhelmed by the rise and fall of animated voices as the graduates and family members mingled with instructors and other school officials. John briefly caught the eye of Tebber, but the Assistant Principal quickly turned and joined in congratulating another student across the room from him. He didn’t miss the implication of the man’s evasion.

 

“So, what are you going to do now?” Matt asked his sister as she finished hugging one of her friends who was leaving with her family.

 

“Actually,” she said as she glanced pensively at her dad, “Several top level students were approached about some job opportunities this summer. I accepted a part time job at the embassy.”

 

“Which embassy?” John demanded. Matt and Dan exchanged looks at the uncharacteristic animosity their dad was displaying with their sister.

 

“The Earth embassy,” Amanda quickly added as she glowered at her dad’s reaction. “I want to get some credits together to help pay for my tuition.”

 

“A part time job isn’t going to help much,” Maura curtly said as she waved at one of the parents she knew.

 

“I don’t want you working at the embassy, Amanda,” John resolutely said. Even Maura was now staring at him. Amanda was furious.

 

“Dad, it’s a great opportunity! How can you tell me no when you work there? Why do you want to ruin my life?” she heatedly spat out. Dan, Matt, and Ming stood uncomfortably on the perimeter of the confrontation. They had all noticed the tension since arriving at the apartment, but had thought it was between Amanda and Maura.

 

“I’m trying to SAVE your life, young lady!” John yelled. Shocking himself with his bad-tempered manner, he took in a deep breath and abruptly walked away, leaving his stunned family to wonder why he was acting so peculiarly.

 

Once he was outside, John stopped and gathered his traumatized thoughts. He knew his behavior was causing his family to wonder about his sanity, but he just couldn’t let Amanda work at the embassy. He just couldn’t do it.

 

The Earth embassy was only two blocks from the Vulcan embassy.

 

Chapter 11 – The Job

 

Spock – “Curious how you humans manage to obtain that which you do not want.” (TOS – Errand of Mercy)

 

 

“My final report on the Rigellians, sir,” Sarek respectfully said as he handed the ambassador a notebook-sized padd. “They have left orbit and are preparing for warp. Space Central has verified their atmospheric ascent to the proper elevation.”

 

“Very well,” Skon replied without looking up, his concentration focused on the blue-lit computer screen before him.

 

Sarek turned to leave the office, but paused as he heard the sound of the report being set down. Skon glanced up at his son’s retreating back. “One moment, Sarek.”

 

Standing before the door, the younger Vulcan immediately spun on his heel and faced Skon with his hands clasped behind his back. 

 

Several minutes passed before the ambassador spoke again. “What did you discover about the eless?”

 

Sarek blinked at the unusual question but he answered directly. “According to legend and the accepted religious tenets of the Rigellian contingency we met with, an eless is a deity of great power who signifies prosperity. I suspect that it is this particular belief that led to Delzanz insisting upon a meeting on Earth as opposed to arranging to meet with a diplomatic team on Vulcan.”

 

“Why is that?” Skon asked, pleased that Sarek had come to a similar conclusion about the request of the Rigellians to meet on Earth.

 

“They stated that the spirits were not pleased with their dealings off-planet. Those celestial beings are described in Rigellian folklore as being humanlike in appearance. From my research, I discovered that an eless is described as a young female who appears only at night.” Sarek raised an eyebrow as he continued. “Most importantly, an eless is described as having ‘flashing’ eyes. After some additional investigation and based strictly on unsubstantiated speculation, I believe that the girl must have looked in the general direction of the Rigellians when we emerged from the building. The ‘flashing’ eyes allusion appears to refer to a color other than the dark brown eye pigmentation that all the Rigellians from the colony world have. I would submit that the girl must have eyes of a lighter color, which I would suggest, based on the data and my analysis, to be blue.”

 

“Why blue?” Skon posed.

 

“Due to the request of the Rigellians to meet on Earth,” Sarek concluded. “While the first meeting did not yield the desired results, our subsequent meeting, in part due to the human girl, did. Further research indicated that the Rigellians hold certain colors in higher esteem than others.”

 

“And blue is the rarest color on their world,” the ambassador said with a slow nod of approval. “That is why they opted to meet on Earth rather than Vulcan. The color of the planet from orbit is more attractive to their sense of relevance.”

 

“Yes, sir,” Sarek agreed as he waited for the next question. 

 

“It is always wise to avoid assumptions,” Skon advised as his attention was once again drawn to the monitor screen. “Conclusions based strictly on half-gathered facts will yield little useful data.”

 

“Yes, sir,” Sarek again said as he noticed the way his father was poring over whatever information was presenting itself on the computer screen. “Sir, is there some matter of importance that Sennar should be made aware of?”

 

“No,” the ambassador succinctly said, closing any thoughts of asking what was so intriguing. “Attend to your duties.”

 

Sarek nodded and left the vast office without another word. It was telling to his son that Skon was so short in his mannerisms. It meant that some pressing issue was on his father’s agenda, and it would be prudent not to bother the ambassador. Sarek returned to his post and to his assigned duties.

 

Skon waited until Sarek left to activate the message code. It was not anomalous to receive a transmission from Vulcan on a nearly daily basis; however, it was highly unusual to receive three, and for each of those messages to be of a personal nature. All were marked ‘confidential’, and he leaned back into his chair as he opened them in the order they were received.

 

The first was from T’Lara, and detailed her continuing search for a bondsmate for their son as well as the mundane catalog of Family duties she’d performed since he had last seen her. It was nearly five months since they had parted, and although gifted with a Vulcan memory, he replayed the message immediately upon its termination. As it ended for the second time, he pressed ‘save’ and moved to the next communiqué. 

 

The sight of the Vulcan Medical Academy seal made one eyebrow arch as Skon waited for the information he’d requested over two years ago. The screen suddenly filled with medical data that streamed down at an astounding speed. Skon pursed his lips as he waited for an explanation. At the end of the tape, an elderly Vulcan male with white dusted hair gazed his intense black eyes at the ambassador. Skon recognized the researcher as Snesp, a highly respected expert in genetic engineering. As the researcher glared into the screen, the ambassador felt an irrational impatience building. 

 

“Ambassador,” the elderly Vulcan eventually said in carefully enunciated Standard. “All medical data involving the bioscans of the subject Vulcan and Human have been sent to you. After delving into the question you presented, I have reached a conclusion.” The Vulcan appeared to be looking off screen at notes, and Skon sighed noiselessly as time ticked by. Clearing his throat, Snesp seemed to be considering what, exactly, to say. Finally, he just nodded his wizened head. “It is possible, but highly unlikely. The odds cannot be given since there are no records or indications that such a conception has ever occurred. Genetically, a team of experts could make the proper manipulations and augmentations needed for life, but the question is this: what would life be like for such a child? I am not an ethicist and will not offer advise as such.” The Vulcan raised his chin in a somewhat defiant pose. “It would not be logical for a Vulcan to desire a union with a Human. Since you speak of a symbolic arrangement, I would strongly recommend that you inform both parties that biological progeny are not a realistic prospect.” The screen darkened, and Skon audibly sighed this time. He had expected resistance to his plan, but for the researcher to admit that the conception of a child was remotely feasible but not desirable was quite disturbing. Family always took precedence over other matters. Always.

 

Pushing the disquieting contact from his thoughts, he pressed the ‘open’ key for the third message. The screen cleared and Skon blinked in surprise. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but the sight of the aged, scowling face of his Family Matriarch surrounded by the principal heads of most of the prominent Clan families in the region surrounding Shi’Kahr did indicate three instantaneous things to him…

 

First, someone had informed her of his plan without his authorization. Second, she was not pleased. Third, he had to quickly formulate an explanation that would stand up under the disapproving reproach that he now anticipated.

 

The human expression of ‘a long day’ was never more clearly illustrated as Skon mentally prepared himself to listen to the expected antagonism and devise a logical way to counter it.

 

“Skon cha’Solkar,” T’Dpel began, her tone reverent and deep with years of practiced control. “A topic of momentous importance has called us together. The Family of Sedrel, our venerated brethren, has been alerted to a most insidious stratagem, one that we must immediately nullify. Thee hast been accused of a plot to contaminate the lineage of Surak with the inferior blood of an Earther. We await your reply to this most grave matter.” The blank screen indicated the end of the discourse; however, it also indicated to Skon that he had less time to respond than he preferred under the circumstances. T’Dpel expected an immediate response to her inquiry. There was no mistaking the disdain with which the elder Matriarch greeted the news that a Human was being considered as a bondsmate for Sarek.

 

Although illogical, Skon felt some annoyance that the connection to the Matriarchal home was free from any interference. The petulant moment passed as he raised his hand into the ta’al at the appearance of T’Dpel on the screen, the deep lines of her face showing her displeasure. To her left was her daughter, T’Pau, her face a matching mask of her mother’s impassive features. “I am honored, T’Dpel,” Skon began, but the elderly woman held up a bony hand to prematurely end his discourse.

 

“Honored? I think not.” Her eyes seemed to snap with electrical energy. “You would prefer no contact. You would prefer to destroy us from a distance.”

 

Destroy? Skon blinked in surprise at the choice of such a word. “I could never bring destruction to our Family, Osu. It is illogical to believe that one Human could cause such trouble.”

 

“You admit that you plan to bond your son with a komihn?”

 

“I admit that I have examined that possibility.” T’Dpel was an incredibly gifted psi telepath, and Skon maintained eye contact with the woman even as he could practically feel her mental censure of his decision.

 

“Why?”

 

Skon raised his head slightly at the simple question. Why, indeed? “The relationship between Vulcan and Earth has always been one of tension and distrust. For years, we have struggled to bridge the schism that exists between us. The symbolic union of our two worlds shall strengthen those tentative ties.”

 

“Symbolic?” T’Dpel said, pouncing on the word. “You intend for the bonding and marriage to be a charade? A hollow sham to bring dishonor to us? To whom do you plan to actually bond your son, Skon? His Time approaches.”

 

“I am aware of that,” he replied tersely.

 

“Then you must agree that a komihn cannot be your son’s bondsmate.” Her eyes again seemed lit with a fiery intensity that made holding her gaze difficult, but Skon stared intently at the screen. “You speak of relationships between our two peoples. What will happen to that relationship if knowledge of our rituals is exposed? What will happen if the komihn is harmed, or even killed, by the fires of pon farr? You would be guilty of murder.”

 

Skon felt the jolt of the accusation consume any objections he had considered. He would never expose the girl to any harm, but what was the answer? “Humans are not as weak as previously believed,” he said, but he knew the argument was lost. T’Dpel could also sense the change in his demeanor.

 

“And you wish to test that theory?” Shaking her wizened head, she prepared to close the conversation, but Skon carefully cleared his throat. Perhaps there was a way…

 

“Perhaps we can reach a compromise,” he slowly said as the idea formed. He did not wish to admit defeat, and it might be in the girl’s best interest for him to plan an alternative to enduring the fires of pon farr.

 

“What is that?” T’Dpel asked as she steeped her skeletal hands on her lap and leaned toward him. Skon recognized the action as one she did when she prepared to tear apart an ill-considered case. He took in a calming breath.

 

“When one’s bondsmate is unable to withstand the fires, a surrogate can be appointed by the Family to protect the weakened individual. This ensures that the fires are quenched and the bonding is unharmed. Since the odds of a Human/Vulcan conception are exceedingly low, it would also ensure the continuance of the Family lineage.” Skon could feel a sense of distaste at the idea of an unbonded female being the mother of his grandchildren, but the lineage must be sustained. “Are children not the expected end result of the fires passion? The symbolic union shall remain.”

 

“What of the komihn’s duties?” T’Pau asked, speaking for the first time. She was also known to be a strong telepath, and Skon nodded respectfully to her.

 

“She shall be required to handle the familial duties as expected, T’Pau,” Skon stated. “The only deviation from her duties would be during the Time.”

 

“We do not desire your lineage to end with your sons, Skon,” T’Dpel said as she sat back. Skon unconsciously relaxed at her action. “A surrogate shall be selected by T’Lara. I understand that she has already discussed the unbonded status of your eldest son with several Families. She shall select the best candidate for your grandchildren. The komihn shall remain on Earth as the symbolic bondsmate. She will not be welcome here.”

 

“But, T’Dpel…” Skon protested, but was immediately cut off.

 

“Kroykah!” The elderly woman said as she raised her head to glare into the screen. “There is nothing further to discuss. I shall contact T’Lara.” 

 

Both women raised their hand, and Skon copied the action immediately. T’Lara would not be pleased by the bondsmate situation, but she would agree to select the surrogate. He knew that there was much more to reflect on, but for the time being, he had gotten the Matriarch to agree to the concept of a Human bondsmate. Over time he hoped for more, but he would settle for that uncharacteristic concession from the powerful woman. 

 

As the link ended, he briefly closed his eyes. The day was still young, and there was much to do; however, Skon had recently noticed an unusual lethargy that conflicted with his last physical exam, which indicated perfect health. Perhaps it was time to contact the embassy healer…

 

Even as that thought crossed his mind, the chime of a message required his attention, and as he worked, the day went by and thoughts of a personal matter were pushed aside for duty.

 

\----

 

Sarek sat at his desk and steeped his fingers before him. The monitor screen showed the latest results of his private investigation into the members of the embassy course, and once again, he was dissatisfied by the information provided. According to the official records, seventy-nine humans had been initially invited to attend. The youngest student mentioned was a nineteen-year-old male student from the continent of Africa. The required holographic images of the female students also yielded no insight since none of the women matched the girl he’d seen. He did discover a noteworthy discrepancy through a careful examination of the student’s tests that he had accessed after several hours spend decrypting the security codes. One of the students, a male named Niall Scott, wrote in an essay that he agreed with the argument presented by Amanda. There had been no student with that name in the course, if his information was correct. He should have been able to discover the name of the girl through the embassy’s security report on the night that the girl had been in the compound, but it had been altered. Narrowing his eyes, Sarek considered another method of gathering information. Pressing the comm key for the security office, he waited for a response.

 

“Yes, sir,” Sasep said, his sharp appearance and deep voice the epitome of strength and control.

 

“I require information, Sasep,” Sarek demanded as he allowed the tension along his jawline to show. Let the guard believe that he was frustrated… “I want you to tell me about Amanda.”

 

“Amanda?” Sasep repeated. Sarek noted the way the guard’s left eyebrow raised fractionally even as the surprise laced his usually level tone. His reaction told Sarek that the girl’s name was, indeed, Amanda and that he was on the right track.

 

“Yes,” Sarek continued, “I need you to tell me what you know about the girl.”

 

“I would presume that you know more about her than I, sir,” Sasep replied. Now it was time for Sarek to raise a perplexed brow.

 

“Why is that?” he asked.

 

“Your father has plans for the girl that I have assumed involve you, sir,” Sasep answered.

 

“Elucidate,” Sarek demanded, not disguising his confusion.

 

“I cannot elucidate, sir,” the guard deferentially said. “I would recommend that you direct any questions to the ambassador.”

 

“I shall do so,” the younger Vulcan curtly replied as the connection ended. Leaning back into the chair, he considered the wall of resistance that followed any question he asked about the girl. No, not just a girl…

 

“Amanda,” he said aloud into the space of the empty office. Blinking at his illogical action, he turned immediately to a small stack of computer chits and began his day’s work.

 

\----

 

One week after graduation, Amanda stood in the foyer of the Earth embassy with two other students from Brantley. She’d dressed conservatively in a short-sleeved ivory shirt and long navy skirt that nearly hid the matching open toed pumps. Nervously, she rubbed the computer chit with her thumb as she held it. All three students had been given the chits immediately upon arrival, which contained basic information about the embassy and the low level access codes they’d need for the building. Watching the bustling groups of employees as they entered the building, Amanda felt her spirits sink as she waited for her dad. He was still upset about her acceptance of the position, but she’d hoped that he would be there to wish her well on her first day. He’d left the apartment before she’d even got up that morning, and her mother’s advise to listen and do as she was told really didn’t inspire her.

 

“Come with me.”

 

Amanda and the other two students jumped at the unexpectedly brusque manner of the older woman who barely slowed down as she walked past them and toward the wall of elevators. They quickly caught up as the woman entered one of the elevators and entered her chit into the access panel. The door whooshed shut so fast that Amanda feared for a moment that her skirt might have gotten caught in the door.

 

“New system,” the woman explained as the floor seemed to rise at a startling speed. “The new phrase is ‘turbolift’, not elevator.”

 

Amanda was grateful that she wasn’t the only one hugging the wall as the lift rose. One of the other students looked absolutely ashen. The woman with them seemed greatly amused by their predicament, and Amanda felt her ire build.

 

“You should have warned us about this,” she adamantly insisted. The woman’s smile faded as she turned to face the glowering girl.

 

“I didn’t think about it,” the woman said with little conviction. “The new lifts were just installed a couple of weeks ago.”

 

The door opened, and the woman stepped around the students and into a neutrally decorated hall. The lift was centrally located around offices that lined the exterior windows. They followed the woman around until she stopped in front of one of the doors.

 

“You, here,” she said, pointing toward the pale boy who still seemed to be fighting to keep his breakfast down. Amanda could empathize with him since her stomach felt queasy after the lift ride, too.

 

“Excuse me,” Amanda said as she and the other student tried to keep up with the woman’s frenetic pace. “Aren’t introductions in order?”

 

“No time, and I’m not going to be working with any of you anyhow,” the woman rudely explained as she pointed the other student toward a door. 

 

Amanda knew she was imagining things, but it appeared that the woman’s pace actually increased as she walked the looping hall back to the lift. She was nearly jogging to keep up with the woman as the elevator door opened.

 

“What about me?” she asked as the woman impatiently tapped her foot and urged her to enter the lift with a sharp wave of her hand.

 

“You’re not on this floor,” the woman offered as the doors shut and the lift took off. Amanda again leaned heavily against the wall. There was just no way that she was going to get used to the stomach wrenching acceleration…progress, indeed.

 

“Here we are,” the woman said as the lift opened. Amanda’s eyes widened as she took in the impressive view in front of her of the city skyline. It wasn’t immediately apparent to her that they were in an office due to the expansive space. As she exited the lift, the door whooshed shut. Whirling around, Amanda realized that the woman hadn’t even told her where to go or to whom she was supposed to report to. Sighing, she waited for a moment to see if anyone would show up, but the empty space remained that way as she slowly walked toward the windows that overlooked the bay. It was a breathtaking view, and she found that she didn’t mind being forgotten if she could just stay there for awhile…

 

“Are you Amanda?”

 

Startled by the voice, the girl spun around and straightened as she recognized Ambassador Agani. Smiling, Amanda held out her hand. “Yes, ma’am,” the girl said as her hand was firmly shook by the older woman. 

 

Agani was a statuesque woman who exuded confidence and warmth. Her huge smile and the way she patted Amanda’s hand as she spoke reassured the girl immediately. “Wonderful! Your father has nothing but good things to say about you.” As she led Amanda around the office, the ambassador pointed out a few of the essential things she’d need to know. Finally, Amanda’s curious look was noticed, and the woman laughed. “Oh! I’m so sorry! You’re probably wondering what you’ll be doing here!” Agani’s laugh was infectious, and Amanda couldn’t help but chuckle.

 

“Yes, I was wondering,” she said cheerily.

 

“You’ll be helping several of my senior diplomats with rather basic things, I’m afraid,” the woman said as she waved Amanda to a chair. “Very tedious, boring reports and data collection. It’s a necessary part of the operation of the embassy, but not one anyone is crazy about. But, in your case, I couldn’t turn down such a great opportunity.”

 

Tilting her head in confusion, Amanda furrowed her brow. “I don’t understand. What opportunity?”

 

“I understand that you have a pretty good grasp of the Vulcan language,” Agani explained as she offered the girl something to drink. Amanda declined as she tried not to blush.

 

“I don’t speak it nearly as well as I can read and comprehend it,” she granted as she wondered what she’d be asked to do.

 

“Great! That’s really what we want.” Agani’s expression sobered as she considered the young girl. She’s just a slip of a thing, the woman thought, but she seemed to exude some force that made her seem much more substantial. Yes, there was something there…

 

“You’ll report to Chen Li,” the ambassador said as she pressed a key on her monitor. “She’ll explain what we’re doing.”

 

Agani waited until the exuberant senior diplomat escorted Amanda out of the office. Chuckling, the ambassador gazed out at the skyline. Yes, she thought, perhaps now she could get a better handle on the poorly translated intercepted transmissions from the Vulcan embassy. She knew that the ambassador’s aide, Sennar, had been tapping their computer system for years.

 

Now, it was time for a little payback.

 

Amanda followed Chen Li to an area on the other side of the elevators that was marked ‘Authorized Personnel Only’. A very prim looking middle-aged woman was sitting at the reception desk. With her grayish hair carefully coifed and her fashionable clothing just slightly out-of-date, Amanda thought she looked like someone who lived to work and didn’t have time to go out shopping.

 

“Elke, this is Amanda Grayson, John’s daughter,” Li said as an introduction. Amanda smiled as the woman stood and shook her hand.

 

“My goodness, you do have your father’s eyes,” Elke said as she reached down to get something off her desk. “It’s good of you to join us, Amanda. Let me see that for a moment.” Amanda handed the woman her computer chit, and Elke inserted a tiny, fibrous memory chip into the side panel. Handing it back, the woman nodded her approval.

 

“Now, you’ll have access to this section. Don’t lose that, and if you do, let me know immediately. Hold out your hand.” Amanda did as she was told, and Elke ran a scanner over the girl’s hand. “This is just for security reasons.”

 

“Yes, ma’am,” Amanda replied even as she saw Elke grimace.

 

“Please don’t call me ma’am,” the woman said with a smile to take the sting out of the reprimand. “Only my grandchildren call me that. Call me Elke.”

 

“It’s nice to meet you, Elke,” Amanda said as Li opened the door into the secured area and motioned for her to follow.

 

“Nice to meet you too, dear,” the woman answered as the door closed.

 

Amanda wasn’t sure what she expected to see in a ‘secured’ area, but it didn’t appear to be any different from the offices she’d seen on the lower floors of the embassy. Li led her to a recessed area that was opposite a row of windows that overlooked the street.

 

“Here you go,” Li said with an almost apologetic shrug. “It’s not much, but there’s a monitor and a desk. We’ll need to find you a chair.” Li left the small area as Amanda looked around. The space was barely large enough for the furniture it contained, and the blank walls and dreary appearance wasn’t exciting in the least. Still, Amanda touched the desktop and couldn’t prevent a tiny grin from forming on her lips. This was her space now.

 

“Try this one,” Li insisted as she rolled the black, clothbound chair into the room. Amanda sat in it and discovered that it was adjusted several centimeters too high. After a few minutes of struggle and cussing from Li, the chair was fixed, and Amanda pulled it around to her desk. 

 

“Now, this is your first assignment,” Li said as she handed the girl a single computer chit. “Don’t be intimidated, but I’ve been asked to time you. All we need you to do is listen to the message and transcribe the conversation into Standard.” Seeing a worried crease form between the girl’s eyes, Li smiled to reassure her. “Trust me, dear. You can’t be as slow as the people we’re paying the big credits to.”

 

“I’m not sure I understand,” Amanda said, befuddled by the job description. “Why not just ask the Vulcans to speak Standard? Most of them do, to some extent.”

 

Li’s expression tightened at the naïve question. “Don’t tell me you haven’t figured this out yet. Amanda, it’s important to remember who your employer is. We need your expertise with deciphering the hours and hours of collected conversations we have in storage, in addition to the daily tapes.” Li paused as understanding dawned on the girl’s features. “Most of the conversations will be of a dreadfully monotonous nature, but there’s a chance that something might be said that’s vitally important for us to know.”

 

“These conversations…” Amanda began, but Li held up her hand as she shook her head.

 

“Confidential.”

 

“Meaning…”

 

“Meaning that you shouldn’t ask questions.” Li could see the conflicted look in the girl’s eyes and could only wonder at it. “Just know that what you’re doing is for the benefit of Earth’s security.”

 

“I see.” Amanda’s tone didn’t resonate with much conviction, and Li tilted her head.

 

“Amanda, I realize that this seems pretty sneaky on our part, but the Vulcans are doing the same thing with us.” Li waited as the girl digested that, and then smiled. “So, are you ready to see how well you really know Vulcan?” The momentary hesitation wasn’t lost on the older woman. Neither was the resigned sigh.

 

“I need this job for my college tuition. So, when do I start?” Amanda asked as she inserted the chit and adjusted the monitor screen.

 

“I’ll start timing you when the conversation starts.”

 

Nodding, Amanda positioned her hands on the keyboard. As the first speaker’s guttural remarks were heard, the girl focused her attention and began to type. It soon became apparent that the conversation was nothing more than a discussion about how many diplomats were needed for a particular meeting. The taped message ended, and Amanda hit the ‘save’ key and sat back.

 

“There,” she said as Li’s eyes blinked in surprise.

 

“Wait just a minute,” the older woman said as she put her hands on her hips. “You mean to tell me that you got the entire conversation?”

 

Amanda shifted uncomfortably under the woman’s seemingly harsh gaze. “You did ask me to transcribe it…”

“Oh, I’m not upset!” Li stated as she chuckled. “Good God, no! I’m just amazed that you got it on the first try! Agani is going to be absolutely floored.”

 

“I may have made some mistakes,” Amanda admitted, but Li just shrugged again.

 

“Your couple of mistakes will pale to the incomprehensible crap I’ve seen coming out of this area,” the woman confessed. “I’ll be back in a moment with more.”

 

With a satisfied smile, Amanda sat back in the chair and relaxed as Li left. The job really didn’t seem to be very difficult, and if all it involved was translating a bunch of routine diplomatic discussions… A dull sense of guilt struck her as she thought of T’Spia. This wasn’t the reason the Vulcan woman had shared her knowledge of her language. Deflated by the weight of what she was about to do, Amanda gazed out into the hall and to a window that framed the blue sky beyond. Maybe she would have time to go visit with her dad after she finished…

 

“Here you go,” Li huffed as she nearly dropped the huge crate of computer chits on the floor. Amanda rushed around the desk to help before the entire contents spilled.

 

“What is this?” the girl asked in wide-eyed amazement.

 

“Um, this is last month,” Li said as she moved the container closer to the desk. “The plan is this. First, you’ll do today’s transmissions. Upon completing that, you’ll be given older transmissions that haven’t been transcribed. I won’t lie to you…there are thousands.”

 

“Thousands?” Amanda repeated, her voice a bit shrill as shock set in.

 

“Don’t think that you have to do them all today!” Li exclaimed as she patted the girl on the arm. “These have been sitting around for months. I’ve marked which ones to do first. I’ll check back with you in awhile.”

 

After Li left, Amanda sank back into her chair and closed her eyes. This wasn’t what she’d anticipated at all. While part of her wanted to get up and leave, she knew that she couldn’t do that. Everyone knew that John’s daughter was now working at the embassy, and how would it look if she left the first day? Plus, she really needed the credits for school. Biting her lip in frustration, she looked down at the stacked work. Sitting there fretting wasn’t helping to lower those copious piles of computer chits, so she reached for the first one on top and began to work.

 

\----

 

“Li, I can’t do this anymore. I have to quit.”

 

The older woman’s head snapped up from her monitor screen at the statement from the young employee. Li had heard nothing but compliments since Amanda had started two weeks earlier, but now something had changed.

 

“Why are you saying that?” Li insisted as she noticed the uncharacteristic somber look on the girl’s face. 

 

“Some of the messages are of a personal nature,” Amanda said as a way of explanation. “I asked the ambassador if I could skip those, but she said that I have to translate all of them. That’s not right.”

 

“Amanda,” Li said in a slightly patronizing tone. “You have to understand that even those seemingly personal messages might contain something important.”

 

“I don’t think they do,” the girl said as she folded her arms across her chest. “Wouldn’t it be logical to just worry about the official business?”

 

“In a perfect world, you’d be right,” Li replied. “This isn’t a perfect world, dear. Please go back to your desk and get to work. You’re really doing a great job for us.” The older woman could see that the encouragement did nothing to ease the girl’s concerns, but Amanda left the office and retreated to her desk. 

 

The stacks of chits didn’t seem to be getting any smaller, and Amanda stared blankly at the monitor screen for a moment before retrieving another to transcribe. Her nosy nature didn’t excuse the invasion of privacy issues that she felt were being trampled and ignored by the embassy. Li had already chastised her about getting too wrapped up in the dialogue. Amanda hated typing the personal conversations, and that morning, while listening to a Vulcan child speaking to his Earthbound mother and whimpering that he missed her, she had stopped the tape and tried not to break down into tears. The boy didn’t sound like much more than a baby, and it took her some time to decipher his childish lisp and mispronunciation of several words. A disgusted flush of shame had overtaken her as she sat there typing in the exchange that was little more than ‘Mommy, I miss you’ and ‘I shall see you soon, my son.’ It was so wrong, and yet she felt trapped by her need for credits for college. She hadn’t told anyone yet that she was looking for another job. Slipping in the next chit, she flexed her fingers as she prepared for another session.

 

Amanda immediately recognized the strong male voice of Ambassador Skon as he began the conversation that had taken place only hours earlier. She yawned as she typed the words without putting them into any semblance of a sentence. She’d fix that at the end. The dialog was brief, and as she settled back to check for errors and correct the punctuation, she froze. It was a personal message…far more personal than any she’d transcribed in the past.

 

‘My wife, I have received word that you have found the surrogate. While not a preferable choice, the lineage must be preserved. Send the requested bioscan to Snesp. He has our son’s scan and shall verify that they are genetically compatible. Peace and long life to you, my wife. I await your arrival on Earth.’

 

Amanda clicked the ‘save’ key as she considered the message. Obviously, someone was having problems getting or staying pregnant. “Poor girl,” she muttered as she hit the retrieval button on the keyboard. Hopefully, the next message wouldn’t be so confidential.

 

 

Chapter 12 – The Year

 

McCoy - Bull. You're hiding - hiding behind rules and regulations -  
Kirk - And who am I hiding from?  
McCoy - From yourself, Admiral.  
(Star Trek II - The Wrath of Khan)

 

"Agani, we have a problem."

The ambassador looked up from her monitor screen, a dismayed look on her features. Li had leaned against the door jam and was wearing an even less pleased look.

"Don't tell me. Amanda."

"I've tried everything," the black haired woman said as she entered the office. "She's absolutely running circles around our other translators, but she's emotionally depressed. The raise should have helped, but she's still unsatisfied. Maybe we should move her to a different job."

"You've just said that she's our best translator, and that's one hell of an accomplishment at…what? Sixteen? God." Agani wistfully shook her head at that. `When I was sixteen, I wasn't thinking about anything except boys. She's really taken this job seriously, hasn't she? Is that the problem?"

"Yes," Li acknowledged. "I keep telling her to stop reading and analyzing the conversations, but she won't do it. She's not mature enough to separate duty from what she sees as spying."

"Well, what would you call it?" Agani asked with a grimace. Looking down at her desktop, the older woman pursed her lips into a tight line as she thought. She didn't want to lose the talented girl, but she couldn't force her to work under duress. "How about this," she finally decided. "Give her two weeks off with pay."

"With pay? Damn, Agani, you're not even that generous with your senior diplomats," Li joked as she chuckled. "How are you going to justify that with the department?"

"I understand that she has a sick relative on the East Coast," Agani explained. "John was telling me that his great aunt is quite frail and not expected to live much longer. This will give Amanda a chance to go see her one last time. Plus, I hope that she'll return with a better outlook."

"Maybe," Li hesitantly agreed. "Or, she won't return at all."

"She'll return," Agani insisted. "Even with John's move, I've heard that she wants to stay in California. We need her."

"But, does she need us?"

"What do you mean?" the ambassador demanded.

A dark look crossed Li's face as she answered. "This really surprised me, but Amanda is having problems getting into college. I don't know the whole story, but apparently Amanda got into some trouble at Brantley that's hurting her acceptance. She told me that she's gotten two rejections, but is still hopeful that another school will accept her. If she gets in, she'll be gone within a month."

"Most colleges have already closed enrollment on the East Coast. Where did she apply? She shouldn't have any problems getting in," Agani stated as she slightly shook her head. "Amanda's so bright… I wonder what happened?"

"She only told me that something happened that was blamed on her." Li sighed as she turned to leave. "Personally, I'm hoping that she isn't here in a month." 

Li raised a meaningful brow at the ambassador as she exited the office. Agani tapped lightly against her monitor padd as she thoughtfully considered Li's stance. With a sigh, the woman typed in the request for Amanda's leave. She wanted to keep the kid happy, but there was only so much she could do. She could only hope that the time away would do her some good.

\-----

"How's it going?" Li asked with a forced sense of cheer. Amanda glanced up and wrinkled her nose even as Li heard the 'click click' of the keyboard.

"Sorry," the woman mouthed as the girl finished the transmission entry and hit 'save'.

"That's all right," Amanda sighed as she sank back into her chair. "I need a break, anyway."

"Funny you should say that," Li said as waggled her eyebrows dramatically. With a huge grin, she came around to sit on the edge of the desk. "Agani and I have been talking, and we think you deserve a vacation."

"Vacation?" Amanda reiterated as she looked down at the mountain of computer chits. "What I need is a cloning machine so that I can replicate myself about a dozen times. I'm never going to see my floor again."

"You've made fantastic progress!" Li said encouragingly as she noticed the doubt lingering in the girl's blue eyes. "Really, you have. I've heard the other translators are incredibly jealous of your abilities."

"Why?" Amanda asked as she cleared a spot on her desk. She hated having everything scattered about, but there didn't seem to be any way to keep her desktop orderly.

"Oh, I don't know," Li said as her tone plainly showed her exasperation. "You're all of sixteen and you have been doing the lion's share of the work in this area. Why don't you take off the next couple of weeks and just relax. Go somewhere… do something away from here."

"I need," she began, but was cut off.

"With pay!" Li interrupted as she wondered at the less than pleased look on the girl's face. "Hell, I had to work a year before I got a week off with pay! You're a lucky girl, Amanda."

"I don't know about that," the girl said as she tried to understand the reason Li wanted her to leave. "Actually, I'd say I'm pretty much a magnet for bad luck."

"No, you're not," the older woman said. It was hard for her to understand Amanda's self-depreciating mannerism, but she suspected it was a learned response. Someone had obviously convinced the girl that she was nothing but trouble, and Li strongly suspected that is was John's wife. She'd met the woman only once, and her imaginary 'bitch' detector had gone off immediately. Since it had never failed her in the past, Li could only wonder how such a sweet man had married such a witch.

"Well, I do have a poor track record," Amanda said as she glanced up at Li. "I also got another rejection letter yesterday."

"Oh, my dear," Li responded as she grasped the girls shoulder in a reassuring way. "I'm sorry to hear that."

Amanda tried to say something else, but the swell of disappointment tightened her vocal cords and she just nodded. Her dad had just received word that he'd gotten a diplomatic position in Boston and would be moving by month's end. Her applications to Harvard, Princeton, and Yale and all been rejected, and she'd waited too long to apply anywhere else. Stupid and arrogant, she angrily thought, sure, her academic record was exceptional, but that one suspension sent up a red flag and destroyed her chances of being accepted. With the collegiate year set to begin soon, it appeared that she was going to watch from the sidelines.

"Maybe next year?" Li said as a way of support. "You are a year ahead as it is, so you really won't be behind."

"I know that's true here," Amanda replied as she pointed to her head. "But, it just hurts so much here." Her hand rested briefly over her heart, and she blinkingly distracted herself with the closest stack of work as Li waited for her to regain her poise.

"Don't let it bother you," Li offered as she lightly squeezed the girl's shoulder. "You're young and have your whole life ahead of you! Who knows what will happen next?"

"You're right, I know," Amanda said as she cleared her throat. "I know it, but I'm tired of disappointment. I want something good to happen."

"Something good will happen," Li maintained as she stepped away from the desk.

"I hope so," the girl said. "Sixteen has been less than sweet for me. I hope seventeen will be better."

"Next month, right?" Li asked as she motioned for Amanda to join her.

"Yes, next month," Amanda said as she stood and stretched. "Seventeen, and then eighteen. I can't wait to be really free and able to do what I want."

Chortling at the girl's youthful pronouncement, Li started toward the break room. "Well, just remember that not everything is as." Her voice trailed off, and Amanda looked to see what had distracted Li. John was coming toward them, and just from his expression, Amanda knew.

"Nanny's dead, isn't she," the girl whispered as her eyes filled with grief.

John said nothing as he gathered his sobbing daughter into his arms. He held her tightly even as his sorrow at Nancy's death caused him to shed his own mournful tears. Li waited respectfully for them to regain some composure before she spoke.

"My deepest sympathies to you both," she said as she observed Amanda wiping her dampened eyes with the back of her hand. "Amanda already has been granted two weeks off."

"Thank you," John simply said as he led his upset daughter away. Li wearily sighed as the lift opened and the grieving pair left. She thought about what Amanda had said just prior to John's arrival… how she was tired of disappointment. 

'Life is full of disappointments,' she jadedly thought as she made her way to her office. `It's finding the good in the midst of the bad that keeps you sane.'

 

The days that followed Nanny's death proved to be as painful as Amanda had expected. The trip back to the East Coast was a surreal experience for her as well as her parents. The funeral service was brief, but as Amanda expected due to Nanny's wishes, its planned simplicity made it that more beautiful. The archaic church she'd remembered well was packed with the bereaved family and friends of the well-loved woman, and for that she was grateful. Dan, Matt and Ming had all arrived for the service, but would have to return to their respective homes immediately afterward. 

Nanny had always loved music, and when the small, but capable, choir sang 'In Paradisium', there wasn't a dry eye in the pews. As the song ended, Amanda took in the irony of sitting in the designated family area next to her Aunt Claire and her family. The tension before the service had been palpable. While Amanda had waved at her cousin Delanna, Claire had turned her back as her brother approached to greet her. With that, the lines had been drawn, and John had stopped and returned to Maura's side. Even when past grievances should have been set aside, there was no way to break the impasse. After the service, Claire had invited everyone to a luncheon, which the girl believed was just a way for her Aunt to revel in having them come to the family estate as a guest. Nanny's funeral service had become nothing but a backdrop to highlight 'her' house and 'her' power, and for that Amanda couldn't forgive Claire. 

Entering the once grand foyer of their former house was a shock, as she and her parent witnessed first hand some of the redecorating Claire had done since they'd left.

"Oh, my God," Maura dramatically whispered, and John just stood in the entryway, shaking his head. Amanda hadn't been a fan of her mother's taste and decorating skills, but what her Aunt had done was atrocious. Gone were the sturdy white columns that separated the foyer from the library and office area; instead, a transparent wall that went straight up to the ceiling 'opened' the rooms on each side of the massive glass stairwell that replaced the antique oak one in the center of the house. Amanda's first thought was that she was looking at a life-size replication of a dollhouse. If the house had been opened, it would have been possible to see each room and `play'. The guided tour only added to her impression of disgust. The entire house had been redone in what Amanda labeled 'post apocalyptic ugly'. 

"Aunt Claire, where are the books?" she asked as they passed the once grand library.

"Those dusty, old things?" the woman haughtily said. "They simply didn't fit my vision for the room. I sold them to an antiques collector."

"What?" John said, his annoyance already at the boiling point at his sister's disregard for the estate's history. "Those books were family heirlooms, Claire! They didn't belong only to you!"

"They were in my way," the woman shouted back, "and even if you wanted them, where would you have put them, John? In that little apartment of yours?"

Amanda's eyes widened as she watched her father's furor cool under the insult. Why wasn't he saying something?

"You should have told us you were going to sell them," Amanda insisted, but was surprised when her dad turned a pained eye on her and nodded toward the stairwell.

"Why don't you find Delanna? We won't be here much longer."

Amanda wanted to protest, but the unyielding look on her dad's face made her turn and go to her cousin's room. It wasn't hard to find since the door was marked with one of the new audio welcome devices that activated a music chip and salutation from the occupant. As the door opened, Delanna rolled her eyes. "Tell me how irritating that damned thing is."

"It's very irritating," Amanda agreed as she entered.

"Mom's idea. She says all teens have to have one. She's mal-ollie," Delanna said as she flopped onto her pillow-covered bed. The product of her Aunt Claire's first marriage, fourteen-year-old Delanna was the only one of her cousins from her aunt's four marriages that Amanda could stand. Since the girl spent most of her time with her father's family, she was rarely at Grayson functions, and Amanda was glad to have the opportunity to get reacquainted with her. 

"No one says mal-ollie anymore."

"Oh?" the younger girl replied as she waved her cousin over. "They do around here. What do they say now?"

"I've heard 'terminal' quite a bit," Amanda admitted. The macabre term hadn't been one of her favorites, especially under the circumstances.

"That's great!" Delanna enthused. "What's a term for great?"

"You can use either 'rosy' or 'burkeen'."

"Oooh, I love Burkeen!" the young girl squealed. "I have all their vids and downloads! Don't you love them?"

"They're not terminal," Amanda said with a laugh. She really wasn't a huge fan of the band due to their overexposure and sound alike songs, but they were incredibly popular.

"So, do you really like California now?"

"It's all right," Amanda said as she gazed around her cousin's room. She could still imagine her furniture and pictures on the wall…it was ironic that Delanna's room had been hers before their move. The view from the expansive bay window was naturally the same and overlooked the brick patio area and estate gardens.

"Are you really going to stay there when your parents move?" Delanna asked, her eyes shining with envy at her cousin.

"I really don't think so," Amanda admitted as she wondered why she felt so much older than the girl next to her. They were only two years apart. "My summer job isn't going very well."

"You're at the embassy, right?" With her cousin's nod, Delanna broadly smiled. "That's just so…rosy! What do you do there?"

"It's classified," Amanda said, and immediately realized how pompous that sounded. "Really, I just go through a lot of old documents and redo them."

"Still, that sounds burkeen," Delanna sighed. Amanda fervently wished she hadn't told her cousin the new `in' words as the girl stood. "Did you hear anything about Nanny's will?"

Sobered by the mention of her great-great aunt, the older girl also stood. "What about it?"

"I heard she only had enough to cover her final expenses," Delanna offered. "Mom said that she thought Nanny had more money than that, but apparently all of her talk about wasting her money when she was younger was true."

"Well, I know she helped me with tuition at Brantley," Amanda softly said. She would never have guessed that Nanny was destitute.

"I don't think so." Her firm tone made Amanda look hard at her.

"What do you mean?"

"Mom had nosed into her business and said that she hadn't spent any credits on anything more than normal living expenses for years." Delanna shrugged. "If Nanny was paying for your tuition, Mom would have known and I'm sure she would have said something about it."

"Maybe," Amanda granted. She was still puzzled by the lack of acknowledgement that Nanny had exhibited over the tuition payment. When Amanda had knowingly given her an opening to admit the generous gift, Nanny hadn't taken the bait. It wasn't like the elderly woman to miss something so blatant.

"Someone else paid," the younger girl said as she opened her door. The irritating music started, and Delanna stomped her foot. "Oooh! That's getting removed today!"

"Maybe," Amanda repeated, still considering the question of her tuition, as she left her former bedroom. The halls seemed to echo with the sound of muted voices, and just over the din, she could hear her dad and aunt.

"If it were here, don't you think I'd have destroyed it by now?"

Standing on the second story landing, Amanda leaned into the transparent wall to eavesdrop as her cousin gave her a sympathetic look. Claire's question was quickly answered by John's furious retort.

"It would be like you to destroy my future, Claire! What the hell happened to your compassion? It's bad enough that I had to use less than desirable means to secure Amanda's tuition; now, you've taken Nancy's research into the amendment to the will!"

Slowly, Amanda walked to the top of the stairwell. Several family members, shifting uncomfortably and seemingly ignoring the confrontation, surrounded her dad and aunt, who were both red-faced and oblivious to those around them.

"It's mine, John! Dad cut you out of the will, and that's just the way it is. Nancy was just an old crazy woman who wanted to believe you were still in Dad's good graces. You weren't, and I wish you would stop rambling on like a maniac about that amendment!"

"I need my half of the inheritance, Claire," John said, his seething words making his tone dark. Amanda was shocked by how his dad wasn't even attempting to be civil with his sister. It wasn't like him at all.

"I wouldn't hold my breath, dear brother," Claire coolly mocked. "It's gone."

"What's gone?" John asked, his eyes locking on Frederick, Claire's most recent husband.

"John, it's not gone," the man said as he glared at his wife. Claire appeared completely flummoxed that the generally quiet giant was speaking at all.

"Shut up, Frederick!" she hissed, but the man continued to speak.

"I made Claire put half the estate proceeds into a separate account for you. The problem is this; only an amendment to the will or Claire coming to her senses will allow you to have access to it." He glared again meaningfully at his wife, whose face was flushed with anger. "Nancy didn't have any more information about the amendment than you did before her death. I checked before Claire wiped the memory banks."

"Dammit, Frederick! What are you doing!" the woman screamed, but was ignored.

"I also heard the rumor that your daughter's tuition was paid by Nancy, but that isn't true, is it?" Frederick leaned knowingly toward the slightly shorter man. "You need your half of the inheritance to pay back the loan, am I right?"

"Yes," John agreed as he wondered why Frederick was so willing to share what he knew.

"The amendment isn't here," the man said as he ignored the stunned look on his wife's face. "Claire tore the house apart looking for it, and nothing was found. I wish I could help you."

"You've helped enough," Claire groused as she planted herself between her husband and brother. "There has never been an amendment, John. Let it go. It doesn't exist."

"I don't believe you," John said as he whirled around. "Let's go," he loudly commanded as Maura quickly tried to keep up with his feverish pace to the front door. Amanda was just coming down the stairs and made her way as fast as she could to the main floor. Without missing a beat, she caught the eyes of her aunt.

"I'd say we're going," she said without stopping. "The house looks horrible. You have my permission to use part of the inheritance to buy yourself some taste. Goodbye."

Amanda wasn't surprised to hear the door slam shut behind her.

 

The ride back to the hotel was unnervingly tense as John, Maura, and Amanda appeared lost in a deep reverie. Amanda was waiting for some reprimand for her parting shot at her Aunt Claire, but nothing was said. It was possible that her parents hadn't heard the insult. Still, there was one question that was begging to be asked. "Dad," Amanda said as they pulled into the hotel lot. "Who paid for my tuition to Brantley?"

"I was wondering that also," Maura added as she watched John's reflexive tightening of his hand on the flitter's control.

"I got a loan, and that's all you need to know," he said, knowing that there was no way that simple answer would satisfy either wife or daughter.

"Don't be so boorish," Maura demanded as she folded her arms across her chest. "John, I'm just curious about the bank that would loan you money for tuition. Brantley wasn't cheap, and..."

"I don't want to talk about it," John insisted, his tone hard. Amanda was again forced to wonder what had happened to her dad. His usual light-hearted mannerisms seemed to have disappeared.

"What are we going to do for the rest of the day?" she asked in order to change the subject. If her dad didn't want to talk about it, he must have a good reason.

"Look for a place to live," John said, grateful for Amanda's question. He could see the conflicted look on his daughter's face as he opened the flitter door.

"Dad, I was wondering." Amanda paused as she mentally organized what she wanted to say. "Since I have the job at the embassy, perhaps I could find a place in San Francisco to live until I start college next year."

"What?" John exclaimed, surprised by her plan.

"That's not possible," Maura said as she got out of the flitter. "You're only sixteen."

"I'll be seventeen next month," Amanda declared as she also exited the vehicle. "I'm responsible and mature enough to live on my own. I'll keep the embassy job full time until next year. Ambassador Agani said she'd allow me to go part time when I start college."

"When you start?" Maura scoffed. "Young lady, in case you didn't notice, you should have started classes this year. You foolishly applied to institutions that have high standards for academics and conduct." Amanda didn't miss the insult as she felt her temper beginning to rise.

"I'd rather aim high and miss than be average and settle," the girl huffed as she stormed toward the hotel entrance.

"What do you mean by that?" her mother said as she narrowed her eyes at the possibly indirect slur.

"Ladies, let's get changed and ready to find a place to live," John said with a slight pleading tenor to his voice. The last thing he needed was another argument clouding the rest of the day. It was already late in the afternoon, and he'd planned to investigate several housing developments and apartment complexes before they returned to California.

"I mean that I'm not going to let a mistake rule the rest of my life," Amanda said as she turned to face her mother. "I didn't deserve to be suspended for the fight at Brantley, and I'm not going to let that dictate my life. I'm going to college next year to where I want to go because I deserve the best."

"How did you get so pretentious?" Maura asked with an incredulous tone. "You're no better than anyone else, Amanda. No one likes a haughty little girl who can't behave."

"I'm not a little girl!" she growled as they entered the hotel foyer. John was pleased to see that it was empty except for the front desk personnel.

"You're acting like one," Maura pointed out as she watched her daughter's face redden. "I really can't believe you believe you're mature enough to live on your own."

"Ladies," John loudly said as he tried to bring the hostilities back under control. "Let's get changed."

"I am mature," Amanda maintained as they made their way to their room.

"Amanda, enough," John insisted as he punched in the access code. Their room was of a typical design with two beds, a bolted desk and chair in one corner, and a comm unit near the door. The soft chime of a message greeted them as they entered.

"I'll check this while you two get ready to go," John ordered as he pressed the 'retrieve' key. It took several seconds for the older mechanism to find the message and play. Amanda and Maura had both slipped out of their dresses and were pointedly ignoring each other as they put on their casual clothes. Maura wore a matching amber colored long sleeved shirt and pants, while Amanda went for the comfort of a pair of well-worn sweatpants and a low cut T-shirt that was tight enough to show her curves without bringing her dad's indignation down upon her.

"Well, this is really something."

Maura and Amanda simultaneously looked up as John turned to them, his face lit with a broad grin.

"Why didn't you tell us?" he said as he walked over and embraced his mystified daughter in a tight bear hug.

"Tell us what?" Maura asked, a bewildered look that mirrored Amanda's in her eyes.

"Why didn't you tell us that you applied to Berkeley?" John said with a pleased chortle. "That was the admissions director calling to confirm that your admission has been accepted. She also said that you've been awarded a scholarship due to your academic achievements! This is so incredible!"

"Amanda, that's wonderful," Maura beamed as she also hugged her daughter, whose expression was one of surprise and shock. 

"Thank you," the girl dully said as she forced a little grin. John tilted his head in confusion at his daughter's odd reaction.

"You should be squealing with joy by now," he said as he hugged her again. "Aren't you excited?"

"Yes...yes, I am," Amanda slowly said, and then genuinely smiled. "I guess I'll be staying in San Francisco now."

"We'll find you a place when we go back to pack up," John agreed even as the pang of separation loomed in his heart. "I just hope we can find you a place to live this close to the school year starting."

"Speaking of places to live." Maura intoned as she walked to the door.

"Yes, we need to get going," John agreed as he shook his head in amazement. "This has to be one of the strangest days of my life. First, a funeral, and now, my daughter gets into college on a scholarship."

"Yes, strange," Amanda said as she pondered the bizarre situation. As they left, she wondered what she ought to do...should she just accept the news that she was staying in San Francisco and would be attending Berkeley, or should she admit to her parents that she'd not applied there? What was happening? Who was doing all of this, starting with her tuition to Brantley? She didn't really believe in guardian angels, but something extraordinary was going on.

There would be an explanation...she wasn't going to let any of it go until someone told her what was going on.

 

"Your test results, sir."

Skon gazed up to watch the Embassies healer enter. The young woman moved with a catlike grace and placed the medical scanner on the ambassador's desk.

"Were there any abnormalities, Esda?"

The Vulcan woman raised an elegant eyebrow. "I have analyzed your bioscan, and have ordered scans of all personnel."

"What is wrong?" Skon said as his dark eyes intently watched her for any fleeting sign or indication as to what problem she had detected. Esda was one of a growing number of Vulcans whose parents had not bonded her as a child. It was a disturbing trend as far as the ambassador was concerned, and one that he hoped would not become common. Her lighter skin tone and features also set her apart from those with whom Skon knew well. She had only recently been assigned to her Earth post.

"I have detected a trace elemental cellular deficiency," she replied as she pointed out the outcome on the scanner screen. "It explains your lethargy and sense of unbalance these past few weeks. I shall verify that no one else has been so effected."

"The cause?" the ambassador asked as Esda turned off the scanner.

"The deficiencies are in those elements that can be found in the normal environment and food stuffs of Vulcan. You have not been to Vulcan in over four years, sir."

"I am aware of that, Esda," Skon granted as he steeped his hands. "However, I shall be journeying home in 10.54 hours."

"Indeed?" the healer said as she lowered her eyes. "In your stead, I shall run the scans and prescribe the vitamin supplements and light therapy necessary for those personnel effected."

Skon nodded as he stood. "Will that be enough to correct the deficiencies?"

"Yes," she agreed as she tucked a strand of light brunette hair behind her right ear. "The physical damage at this time is minimal, but requires attention." She paused as her eyes flicked up to observe the Vulcan before her. "Your journey…I trust it is to find your son a bondsmate?"

The ambassador's nostrils flared as he stoically glared at the young woman. "Your question is not welcome, Esda. I would advise you to end your speculation into my private affairs."

"Of course." The healer seemed to flush slightly as she turned on her heel and left the office without another word. Skon followed her out the door with his eyes, and immediately closed them as he realized what he had just done. The lethargy that had troubled him was now explained, and now it was time to take care of matters of a far more personal nature. T'Lara had already contacted him to confirm his arrival planet side, and he had been unusually loath to end the visual communication with her. The physical distance between them seemed to disappear when he observed the light in her dark eyes and hair, and even their impending reunion seemed to be too distant. Uncharacteristically sighing, he contacted Sennar's office.

"S'haile?" the aide replied.

"Is all ready for my departure?" he inquired as he impatiently tapped on the keyboard. Conscious of his action, he lowered his hands to his lap and grimaced. Sennar didn't miss the action, but he said nothing about it as he responded.

"Yes, my friend, all has been readied," the Vulcan said as he glanced off-screen. Skon knew he was looking at Sarek. "Your son has been briefed on the details of the meeting next week at the Earth embassy."

"Very well." Skon took in a steadying breath as he focused his unsettled thoughts on his ambassadorial duties. "Sarek shall lead the diplomatic party at the meeting. His promotion to a senior diplomatic corps position has been approved by the High Council."

"Yes, S'haile," Sennar agreed. He didn't remind the ambassador that the news had been received the day before. It would not be in his friend's best interest to point out his memory lapse, especially at this most sensitive juncture.

"I shall return to my apartment at this time, Sennar. I prefer to remain in seclusion until my departure. Is that understood?" Skon knew it was quite clear to his friend that he needed to be alone to maintain his tenuous control. 

 

The aide nodded respectfully. "Of course. May your journey be free from incident," Sennar offered as he held up his hand. Skon returned the gesture as the communication screen went dark. Closing his eyes again, the ambassador silently allowed a self-indulgent thought.

"Soon, t'hy'la," he murmured as he left his office. "Soon."

\---- 

"Is Amanda back today?" Agani asked as Chen Li entered her office Monday morning. Li furrowed her brow at the unexpected question first thing.

"Yes, as a matter of fact she should be here any minute," Li replied as she watched the ambassador's stern face. "Is something wrong?"

"I hope not," the woman answered with a sigh. "I've been working on getting everything ready for my meeting with Skon, and then I receive this." She handed Li the portable padd with its blue screen light glowing against the black casing. Scanning the message, the senior diplomat harrumphed at the message from Skon's aide.

"It would have been nice if we'd been told the ambassador was on vacation," Li complained as she handed the padd back. "What do you know about Sarek?"

"Not much," Agani admitted. "He's a senior diplomat with an impressive record; however, there's one thing I don't know."

"And that is." Li slowly drawled as she pursed her lips.

"I don't know how well he speaks Standard." 

"I see," the diplomat said as she grinned. "That's why you asked about Amanda."

"Exactly," the ambassador responded as she also smiled. "It's nice to have someone with a working knowledge of the Vulcan language on staff. Make sure that she's in the conference room at 1000 hours."

"Yes, ma'am," Li said with a mock salute. Agani gave her a tolerant look as the shorter woman turned to leave. Before she exited, Li turned back. "What if he speaks perfect Standard?" she asked. 

 

The ambassador shrugged. "I can only hope so. If he does, then no harm done, right?"

"Right," Li agreed as she wickedly grinned. "Maybe he'll be as sexy as his father."

"Li, you're incorrigible," Agani laughed. "I'll be happy if we can make some headway on our procedural outline for sharing interplanetary transports."

"I'll let Amanda know about the meeting," Li said as she left the office. It would be interesting to meet Skon's son, the woman thought as she walked to her office. It might explain why she was trying to find an excuse to be in the conference room. Inexplicably, she just knew something was going to happen.

 

Seated behind her desk, Li began to open the messages from her last sign-in. She could hear Amanda's voice in the hall along with several other male voices. Curious, the woman stood to see what they were discussing with such interest. Generally, the girl would slip into the office, do her work, and leave with little fanfare. Framed in the doorway, Li came to a dead stop. Of all the days for Amanda to take her advise.

"Welcome back," Li warmly said as she raised a meaningful eyebrow at the three young men in the hall with Amanda. They took the hint and swiftly found their way to their respective offices.

"Thank you, Li," the girl said as she sobered. "I can't say that the time off was my idea of a vacation."

"I know, dear," the woman empathized as she found herself unable to wipe a smirk off her lips. "So, when did you decide that today was the day for you to take my advice and dress like a teenager?"

Li had given her young employee a hard time about her conservative outfits and had recommended that she lighten up. She knew that, according to John, the girl wasn't usually so old-fashioned in her choice of apparel.

"You told me to!" Amanda said with an exasperated look. 

"Yes, I did. And that's really cute on you," Li brightly admitted. While the cropped, long-sleeved ivory sweater and matching open toed, heeled sandals weren't really that drastic a change for Amanda, the light pink micro miniskirt was. It was, no doubt, the reason for the increased interest by the male population of the embassy. Li rolled her eyes. "Cute and revealing," she concluded with a chuckle.

"Thank you," Amanda hesitantly said as she shrugged. "I'm just following orders." 

"I need to learn when to keep my mouth shut," the older woman said under her breath as she noticed the way a security guard slowed as he passed. "You'd think no one had ever seen legs before," she loudly said, and the man hurried on down the hall. Amanda sighed as her supervisor continued to chuckle at the amusing situation.

"Well, I need to get to work," Amanda concluded with a grin. "I'm certain that there's a log jam of work, and I don't want to fall even further behind. It will be difficult enough when I go part-time."

"Oh?" Li replied, and then realized what the girl said. "Oh! Where are you going? Did those idiots back East realize they'd made a mistake?"

"No, I've been accepted at Berkeley," Amanda simply said. Li was thrilled, but she could sense a certain reticence in the girl's tone.

"That's wonderful!" the woman exclaimed as she walked with the girl to her desk. "I didn't even realize that you'd applied to anywhere around here."

"Yes." Amanda said, and again Li could hear the hesitation. Before she could question her, though, Agani came flying around the corner, the 'click click' of her heels making a frenzied tap against the tiled floor.

"Li, did you tell." The ambassador stopped as she saw Amanda. "Oh, no," the woman moaned, and Li and Amanda cast worried looks at each other.

"What's wrong?" Li asked, even though she was well aware of why Agani was upset.

"Did you forget about the meeting?" the ambassador asked coolly even as Li grimaced.

"Of course not," Li harrumphed, "I'm well aware that we're meeting with the Vulcans today. Maybe it would be to our benefit to let Amanda go into the meeting dressed like this...you know, show them what we humans have to offer." 

 

Agani raised her hand impatiently to end the discourse. "That's not amusing," the woman sighed as she turned to leave. "I don't want to insult the Vulcan delegation by having someone in the room improperly dressed. They'd have a fit if they saw her." Amanda blinked in confusion as the ambassador continued. "I know Skon well enough to know that he wouldn't put someone in charge who couldn't handle the job. Amanda, please stay here near your comm just in case I need your help with a translation." Almost as an afterthought, the woman turned back to Amanda, her expression light. "Did you hear anything from the admissions department at Cal…or should I say, Berkeley?"

"Yes, I did," Amanda replied as her eyes widened. "What do you know about it?"

"Well, dear, when I learned of your dilemma, I pulled a few strings. It was the least they could do since I'm one of their most generous donors. There was a scholarship available that hadn't been awarded yet." Grinning broadly, the woman watched the girl's eyes light up. "It wasn't that hard to convince the admissions board to give it to you. Your grades at Brantley made my job easy."

"Oh, thank you so much!" Amanda graciously said as she gratefully approached and was swallowed up in a bear hug from the larger woman.

"No, thank you for accepting it and planning to go," Agani insisted as she squeezed the girl's arms slightly. "Once you get your class schedule, we'll figure out when you can work here."

"That would be great," Amanda said as the ambassador turned to leave.

"Li, I'll be in the conference room. Get your report and join me ASAP. Amanda, stay here until Li returns." Agani's pumps sounded against the floor as she swiftly fled to finish preparations for the meeting.

"I thought you weren't interested in staying here due to the privacy issue?" Li asked. 

"I know," Amanda slowly admitted as she returned to her desk. "But, I do need to work to have some credits for a place to live. Dad is going to help, of course, but I don't want to put the entire burden on him. Plus, I could never find a part-time job elsewhere that pays as well."

"That's true," Li said with a satisfied nod. "Well, back to the salt mines for you, then. We'll contact you if we need you."

Amanda said nothing as she watched the petite woman leave. As she'd expected, the area surrounding her desk was heaped with work, and she sighed as she settled back into her chair and studied the transmission schedule. Although she didn't care to admit it to anyone, she had realized while away that she felt like she knew the people on the transmissions and didn't want anyone else to be privy to their lives. It was bad enough that she had to interpret their every last word, but her concern was that if she left, someone less discreet might be hired and use what they heard against the Vulcans. In her mind, she could picture Skon, his wife, and most of the other Vulcan Embassy staff just from their voices and verbal exchanges. Pressing the `retrieve' on the first transmission in line from two weeks earlier, Amanda immediately recognized the usually steady voice of the Vulcan Ambassador. Strangely, his voice was unnaturally strained and his words didn't flow as naturally as they usually did. As the transmission ended, Amanda looked down at what she'd written, and blushed.

'My wife, I have missed you so. My mind has been in disarray for hours as I've thought only of you. Arrangements are being made for my departure. Sennar has been discreet, as always. How I ----- the touch of you.' A long pause. 'I shall end this transmission with the knowledge that we shall be together soon.' Another long pause. 'I cherish thee, -----'

Flustered by the passionate undercurrent she could hear in the resonant voice, she quickly corrected what she could of the transcript. Several words were unknown to her, which was very unusual. Turning the sentences around and around, Amanda checked with the extensive dictionary that had been provided to them. She understood that it was quite outdated, but it was the only thing that had been authorized for release to their embassy by the Vulcans. A quick check revealed that neither word was listed. Sitting back, Amanda knew she should just move on to the next transmission, but her curiosity about what Skon had said was just too much. The meeting was scheduled to last an hour. Perhaps she might be able to comm the Ambassador and request that she ask for an updated Vulcan/Standard dictionary before the delegates left the embassy grounds. She thought up a plausible explanation for her inquiry if Agani balked and continued to type up subsequent routine diplomatic messages. As the hour ended, she purposefully pressed in the secured code.

"Is there a problem?" Agani groused as she observed the scantily dressed girl on the view screen. 

"I'm so sorry for the interruption, ma'am," Amanda whispered as the ambassador's eyes bored into her. "Would it be possible to request from the Vulcans an updated version of the dictionary they provided us?"

"This isn't the time or the place for such a question!" The woman's harsh words and clearly evident anger caused Amanda to back away from the screen and lower her head. What had she been thinking?

"I'm sorry," the girl said as she watched the screen darken. Amanda thought that she heard the voice of Ambassador Skon through the comm link as the connection ended. Her heart raced as she realized that the Vulcan might have overheard her question. 'I'm so fired and not going to Berkeley' Amanda thought as she considered how upset Agani had been.

Several minutes later and without a word, Agani cut her eyes hard into the small alcove as she passed Amanda's area. Li, however, came in with a huge grin on her face.

"Any more diplomatic meetings scheduled that you'd like to interrupt?"

"No," Amanda groaned as she covered her head and placed it on her desk. "What possessed me to do that?"

"Youthful insanity. That's what I told Agani, and she agrees." Li had still not stopped grinning as Amanda kept her head against the small section of her desk that was clear of computer chits.

"Am I fired?" she mumbled into her desktop. 

 

Li rolled her eyes and leaned against the doorjamb. "Of course not! I just told you that Agani agrees with me that you made a mistake and will never happen again...right?" Amanda was nodding before Li stopped speaking.

"No, never," the girl adamantly promised as she raised her head. "So, did the meeting go well?"

"Yes, the meeting went just fine," Li supplied as she observed the girl's disheartened expression. "Personally, I think that Sarek might turn out to be a better diplomat than his father. Skon's aide Sennar is still an old grouch, but he won't be around forever." The woman raised an eyebrow as she observed Amanda's dejected manner. "Listen, Amanda. You made a mistake, but it was minor. In fact, I believe that Sarek will send us that update. No one here has asked for one in years, and it isn't that unexpected that we'd solicit it. You know…improving relations, etc." 

"I know, but I should have waited," the girl said as the flush of embarrassment returned. "I could hear Agani's aggravation with me, not to mention see her scowl."

"Don't worry about it!" Affectionately shaking her head, Li started to leave, but Amanda cleared her throat.

"Li, who is Sarek?"

"Oh," the older woman said as she waved at a passing employee. "He's Skon's son. I understand that he's been a diplomat for years and years, but he sure doesn't look like he's been around that long." Li waggled her eyebrows suggestively. "My prayers were answered... he's just as good looking as his father."

"Li!" Amanda said, her tone one of humored outrage. "You shouldn't say things like that! You're married! And so is he."

"I may be married, but I'm not blind," the dark haired woman saucily replied as a perplexed look crossed her features. "How do you know he's married?"

"Oh, it was something I overheard." Amanda ended the discussion on that note, even as Li continued to reassure her that she hadn't made that serious an error. There was no way that Amanda would disclose that she knew Sarek and his wife were having fertility problems that meant involving a surrogate. She also knew that she'd never again rush headlong into asking questions.

Grimacing, she amended that thought to a pledge she could keep. She wouldn't, unless her curiosity got the better of her.

Within days of her request, Amanda received the modernized download of the Vulcan/Standard dictionary. It was double the size of the embassy's version, and she felt like a child at Christmas as she checked to verify that more than a few words T'Spia had taught her that weren't in the old version were listed. Satisfied, since all those words were present, she reviewed the message from Skon and carefully typed in the phonetic spelling of what he'd said. The first word took several attempts for her to locate, and when she did eventually match it up, she wasn't surprised as the blood rushed to her cheeks. 

"So, the word is 'crave'," she whispered to herself. 

The next word's sentence placement almost made her not want to check, but it was too great a temptation. Instead of the time-consuming process of the first word, the second word popped up immediately, but it didn't seem to fit. Checking the spelling, she scanned the definition of the word she'd typed in as tahilah. After friend, brother, sister, close associate, and companion, she finally found what she'd assumed. The very last definition stated that bondsmates sometimes used the word, spelled t'hy'la, to mean 'lover'.

"So much for unemotional," Amanda softly intoned in the empty alcove. She wasn't sure, but she suspected that she might be the first human to ever hear a Vulcan utter such an assertion. 

 

 

Chapter 13 – The Revelation

 

"Humans make illogical choices." - Spock  
"They do indeed." - Amanda  
(Star Trek IV The Voyage Home)

 

Sarek paused only briefly before descending the stairs next to the entryway of the Main Embassy building as he observed the diplomatic flitter arrive in the courtyard. It had not surprised him that his friend, Soran, had requested to travel in less inclement weather before winter arrived. Despite Sarek's insistence that the weather in San Francisco was not nearly as severe as Soran apparently had been led to believe, the Vulcan booked his travel for what he had deemed a milder time of the season. As it turned out, the fortuitous timing of his arrival was beneficial to Sarek's search for an aide. As a senior diplomat, he was entitled to have a small staff to assist him with the everyday matters that would prove distracting otherwise: his friend had agreed to accept the position of chief aide. 

"Soran, I trust your journey has been free from incident?" He extended his arms out, crossed at the wrist, in the traditional greeting for family. It was a childhood habit that had been discouraged by their families since they were not related; however, the greeting remained, and Soran immediately reciprocated.

"I was only delayed briefly at Earth's Space Central due to an emergency test of a decontamination unit. It is pleasant to be here." Soran hadn't stopped looking around the embassy grounds since his flitter door had opened. Compared to Sarek, the Vulcan was of a slighter build, with straight jet-black hair and equally dark eyes. His traditional robes were of a more severe line, indicative of the style common to his desert clan. The incongruous nature of a Vulcan so proper, and yet with such a relaxed attitude, wasn't lost on Sarek. He valued, and even envied at times, his friend's more unperturbed approach to life. He was aware that Soran had familial responsibilities on Vulcan, and had invited his friend's bondsmate, T'Sar, to join her husband on Earth; however, the woman had declined. 

"Has T'Sar pardoned me for requesting your services?" Sarek asked as they entered the Main building. Soran had a small travelpac with him that appeared to be his only luggage.

"There is nothing to forgive," the Vulcan answered as he handed Sarek a computer chit. "T'Sar and I have agreed that I shall visit often during my Terran sojourn. My duty is clear, and serving on Earth has always been an aspiration of mine." Sarek noted the way his friend's eyes suddenly sparkled like black onyx as he mentioned Earth. "Few diplomats are so fortunate."

"Indeed," Sarek said in agreement. "Once your personal dossier has been loaded, you shall be extended the full security clearance that is necessary as my aide."

"Of course," Soran said absently as he gazed around the open, well-lit foyer. "The artwork in here is extraordinary. Have you been able to explore this world since your arrival?"

"My duties have precluded any extraneous activities," Sarek glibly said as he led his friend through the security doors to the elevators.

"It would be unfortunate to miss an opportunity for exploration on such a richly varied world." Soran said as his right eyebrow rose fractionally. Sarek cut his eyes over to his friend as they entered the lift.

"Have you been speaking with my father?" he asked in a warm, yet somewhat guarded, tone. Skon had been strongly encouraging his son to leave the embassy grounds and learn more about the peoples of Earth. While such an adventure might have been welcome to some, Sarek found that he could ascertain enough information about humans and their world through the computer nets and downloads that were available. His interest was in keeping his father's trust with his promotion, not in traveling around the planet. He saw no logic in physically going to a location if one could simply look it up and see holopics and written descriptions.

"No, I have not," Soran easily replied as they felt the acceleration of the lift as it sped them to their destination. "I have not been on an elevator like this," the newly arrived Vulcan said as the doors opened and Sarek led the way out of the lift.

"It is of a new design recently modified from turbolifts originally designed for long-range space vessels," Sarek replied as he slowed to allow Soran to keep pace with him. His practice of striding ahead with little regard for those who followed had always been something he had to consciously manage. "The Earth Embassy was the first to install them. After we ensured that the humans had properly acclimated themselves to the increased acceleration, the decision was made to add the modified lifts to our buildings. The adjustments to the lift velocity were based on the Terran recommendations as determined by what they referred to as 'trial and error'."

"Logical," Soran responded as he followed his friend into an office.

Skon looked up from behind his desk as Sarek and Soran entered. It had not surprised him when his son had requested Soran's services as his aide. With a satisfactory record and interest in interplanetary diplomacy, the decision to approve the Vulcan's transfer to Earth was simple.

"Soran," the ambassador said as he stood, his hand forming the ta'al. 

 

Soran matched the older Vulcan's action as he bowed slightly. "I come to serve," he proffered as the ambassador nodded his acceptance.

"Your service honors us," Skon replied as he stepped over to stand in front of the windows. Soran raised an eyebrow at his friend as they joined him. Sarek had told his friend about his father's seemingly excessive fascination with the bay view from his office; but, now that he saw the striking Golden Gate Bridge and bright splashes of color that seemed to permeate the landscape, he understood. The sight was like nothing he'd ever seen on Vulcan.

"It is regrettable that your wife was unable to travel with you, Soran," the ambassador said as he glanced over at the Vulcan, who appeared unable to take his eyes away from the panoramic view. "I trust that she is well."

"She is, sir," Soran stated as his dark eyes focused on Skon's face. "It was a mutual decision that she not travel at this time."

Sarek immediately turned to his friend. "Soran, are you saying that your wife is expecting a child?"

"She is," the Vulcan agreed as he faced his old friend. "With your approval, I shall need a leave of absence in approximately 249 days."

"Granted," Sarek directly replied. "It is pleasing to hear about the increase to your family. Why did you not inform me prior to your accepting the position? Is it not preferable that you remain with your wife during this time?"

"That was my intention," Soran reluctantly said as he shrugged slightly. "T'Sar told me that she thought it would be best if I were not present to constantly monitor her condition. We have agreed that I shall visit as often as duty allows."

"A child takes precedence over duty, Soran," Skon firmly stated as he stared at his son. "The family name must be preserved, and it is your responsibility to provide what is best for your progeny."

"Agreed, sir," Soran said, even as he observed the interplay between father and son. He was aware of his friend's marital state, and it was not his wish to agitate the sensitive subject of a bondsmate by flaunting his impending fatherhood. Soran nearly said something to that effect when Sarek raised his chin slightly.

"I shall direct you to your quarters, my friend," he said as he raised his hand. Skon copied the action, and said nothing about the obvious move to end the conversation. Soran also gratefully lowered his head as he raised his hand.

"It is my sole mission to serve to the best of my abilities and talents, sir," he said as the Ambassador nodded his acceptance of the offer.

"You shall serve well, Soran," Skon replied. "Rest now. Acclimate yourself to the planet's atmosphere, and Sarek will apprise you of your schedule."

The two Vulcans left the office, and Skon waited until the heavy door closed before turning his attention back to the window. He had not failed to notice the look in his son's eyes when Soran announced that he was to be a father. It hadn't affected him since he was aware of the impending bonding. Skon straightened as a thought occurred. He'd been less than pleased with the thought of a surrogate for his grandchild; however, no solution for the dilemma had presented itself...until now.

"Sennar," he said as he opened the channel to his aide's office.

"S'haile," the Vulcan replied instantly.

"Contact T'Dpel. I must speak with her about an urgent matter."

"Yes, S'haile." The connection ended, and Skon clasped his hands behind his back as he waited for Sennar's word that the channel was available. As illogical as it was, Skon wondered why it was that when he wanted to speak with the Matriarch, the atmospheric conditions interfered with the connection, while any disinclination on his part to speak with her resulted in an immediately clear line. 

"S'haile, atmospheric conditions are such that a delay is inevitable." The aide could hear the heavy exhale through the monitor.

"That is not unexpected, Sennar. Keep me informed."

"I shall do so," the aide said as the conversation ended. Sennar could just hear the voices of the Ambassador's son and his new associate from the office next to his. Sarek had proven to be a most promising young diplomat, just as his father had anticipated. Sennar reached down and opened a channel to the embassy's infirmary. He watched the dark screen fill with the features of the embassy's recently acquired healer. "Esda, I trust that I am not disrupting an appointment," he said as he saw the way she held his gaze. 

 

She knew his reason for contact. "Sennar, my relative, I am no closer to speaking with the ambassador's son than before." She pursed her lips in exasperation. "He is unavailable due to his work habits that appear to involve long hours with no breaks."

"I understand," Sennar said as he raised an eyebrow. "Today, his friend and new aide has arrived from Vulcan today, and with that addition to the staff, Sarek's workload should become more reasonable." His intense dark eyes glared at the woman on the screen. "There is very little time, Esda. If you are to succeed, you must act now before the ambassador insists on a specious bonding with another. It is to the benefit of our family to join with such a venerated House."

"I understand and acknowledge your assessment," Esda said as she tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. "I cannot force Sarek to bond with me, Sennar."

"Obviously not," the older Vulcan agreed as he raised an eyebrow. "However, it would be most agreeable for you to become acquainted with him. Befriend him. There is time for that. I believe I can convince Skon to see the logic in such a bonding over what he has proposed."

"I understand," the healer said again as the screen darkened. She leaned back into her chair and closed her eyes. Sarek was not a disagreeable choice for a bondsmate; however, her parents had wanted her to be free to choose who was best for her. Their unconventional ideas were still not welcome by some Vulcans, including the House that, ironically, her distant relative Sennar wanted her to join. 

"There is much to consider," she said to herself as she went to the examination room for her next appointment.

 

"S'haile, the channel is available."

Skon scanned over the latest medical information he had retrieved from the nets as he slowly nodded. Yes, the latest data he'd found was most agreeable.

"Skon, why have you contacted me?" the elderly woman snapped as she glared into the screen. T'Pau was, as he'd anticipated, to T'Dpel's right.

"I beg forgiveness, T'Dpel," he said as he lowered his head in deference to the matriarch. "If there were more time, I would have waited to make an appointment. I believe it is to the benefit of the young woman selected as a surrogate to learn that her services will not be required."

Silence followed Skon's announcement as he had anticipated.

"It was agreed that the ko-mihn would remain on Earth and not diminish the bloodlines of Surak," the woman sharply reminded the wayward Vulcan before her. "No contamination of our House and Clan shall occur while I am Matriarch."

"T'Dpel," Skon said, his eyes locked with the powerful woman's sparkling orbs. "I ask that you allow me to expound upon my reasoning."

"The question of a surrogate would not have occurred if you would bond thy son to one of Vulcan's daughters." T'Pau spoke boldly, and Skon turned his attention to her. It was just the statement he'd expected, and hoped, to hear.

"That is not guaranteed," he directly pointed out as he leaned toward the screen. "The fact that there are Vulcan surrogates indicates that not every union between Vulcan husband and wife results in the birth of a child. Infertility can occur in any couple, and not every pon farr results in a conception."

"Kroykah!" T'Dpel shouted as she also leaned toward the screen. "What right have you to speak so openly about such delicate matters? Where is your respect?"

"My respect does not overtake my desire for the correct path," Skon calmly replied. "My research has indicated that the odds of a Vulcan couple conceiving a child at the first pon farr are 78.964 percent… not 100.00 percent. The Vulcan researchers who analyzed the bioscans between my son and the human female indicated that the odds of conception were 00.000014 percent. Extremely low, I will admit; however, the percentage is not zero. If a Vulcan couples chances were so slim, would a surrogate be compulsory for them?"

He carefully scanned the two women's faces as he waited for a reaction. T'Dpel's face appeared ready to crack due to the pull of her tight skin enfolding her cheekbones. T'Pau, it appeared to him, understood his line of reasoning. It did not mean that she agreed with him.

"You are suggesting that your son be allowed not only bond with a human, but to also undergo pon farr with one?" T'Pau's eyebrows disappeared into her hairline. "Did our discussion about injuries and death not sway you to our more logical proposal?"

"It originally did," he said. There was no point in arguing against the truth. "My research has also indicated that humans are not as weak as we have often portrayed them."

"There is only an infinitesimal chance of a conception and viable pregnancy in any case," T'Dpel reminded him. "Your son agrees to the bonding under these circumstances?"

"My son will agree with whatever I deem best for him." Skon paused as he considered, not for the first time, his logic when it came to his bonding plan for his eldest child. It was not his desire to damage his son's life and career with a decision that would cripple his diplomatic potential. Why he so strongly believed he was right was impossible for him to analyze. It might be considered an interminable curse that he was under… to always believe his opinion was the correct course for all under his influence; however, now wasn't the time for self-examination.

"Then you have not told him," T'Dpel whispered, her hard voice unaffected by the disclosure. "There is still time to find him a proper mate. There is a young woman at your embassy that would be an excellent candidate."

Skon blinked at the unexpected turn in the conversation. Immediately, he understood his friend, Sennar's, interest in introducing Sarek to the embassy's Healer, Esda. It all made complete sense now.

"He shall be told in an expedient manner that will grant him time to accept my decision," Skon said, his chin raised in a show of strength. T'Dpel tilted her wizened head as she observed the somewhat defiant act.

"Perhaps. Or, he might refuse and return to Vulcan to claim his birthright as a member of our House." 

Skon did his best to disguise his confusion. "Sarek has obligations here on Earth, T'Dpel," he firmly stated. "He would make no request to return to Vulcan."

"He might. It is his right," the elderly Vulcan replied as her dark eyes narrowed. "He is a son of Vulcan, and will act as a son of Vulcan. Your insolent stance cannot be allowed to disrupt the House and Clan of our ancestors. If such a request is submitted, I shall be obligated to override you and permit him to seek a proper bondsmate here."

"Sarek is the future," the Ambassador said, his voice ringing with authority. "As such, he will understand his role."

"If that is what you believe," T'Dpel dismissively rumbled as she raised an eyebrow at Skon's image on the screen. "I am somewhat surprised that you haven't used the argument that your son can still marry properly after the death of the ko-mihn. Humans are notoriously short-lived."

Skon felt the cool brandish of her words assault him in a way that shocked his sensibilities. Leaning forward, he came as close to losing his extremely level temper as he had ever come. "T'Dpel, you are never to speak about my daughter in such a way again! Never!" He observed the tightening of the numerous lines around the elderly woman's face. She had anticipated his response.

"I suggest that you prepare your son for much more invasive questions, Skon-am," the woman said with no warmth in her tone. "If you leave him defenseless in this, you shall be guilty of negligence. I would suggest you speak with him immediately about this 'daughter' you have selected for him." The screen darkened before Skon could reply.

 

Staring briefly at the dark screen, the ambassador pursed his lips as he considered T'Dpel's actions. As the Family Matriarch, she had the authority to override his decision and order Sarek to return to Vulcan for his `protection'. It wouldn't be necessary, but the knowledge that she might contact his son before he understood his part in the plan would be troublesome. Skon pressed the monitor key to Sennar's office. "Sennar, come here immediately." 

With the aide's arrival, Skon stood and carefully examined his friend for a moment. Sennar was a well-respected diplomatic assistant, but he did have a tendency to overstep his authority. The ambassador knew he should be more willing to reprimand him, but it was difficult due to their amity. "Sennar," he began, but the Vulcan raised his head and held up his hand to end the discourse.

"My friend, I know," Sennar said, his tone low. "I am aware that I acted without your authority in requesting Esda as the healer for our embassy. My motives were not for the benefit of the embassy, but were personal. I ask forgiveness, but my interest was in presenting your son with a more viable option to his unbonded status."

"You listened to my conversation with T'Dpel." It was not a question, and Skon watched the other's eyes lower in confirmation.

 

"I ask forgiveness."

"Of course you do," Skon slowly replied. 

 

Sennar's eyes cut up to look at the impassive face of the ambassador. "Skon, there is a matter I wish to discuss with you… a security matter," Sennar haltingly said, unused as he was to the cold glare that was now focused on him.

"Speak."

"The newly implemented security scans have revealed that our transmissions have been intercepted repeatedly since the installation of the supposedly resilient communications shield." Sennar wasn't surprised by the deep inhalation of breath he could clearly see as he continued. "The shield has been in place for 2.342 Earth years, and…"

"And, our transmissions have been broadcast for anyone with the proper apparatus to intercept." Skon exhaled slowly. "When did you discover this leak?"

"Just today, S'haile," the Vulcan answered. "Security Chief Sasep has offered his resignation in response to the infiltration breach."

"No, I do not require his resignation." Skon observed the quick flash of shock on his friend's features before he composed himself. 

 

Straightening, Sennar locked eyes with him. "You wish me to resign."

"I shall not order you to," Skon stated as he stood. A profound heaviness seemed to permeate the office air. "I grow weary of having my trust tested by you and others. I am not pleased by the questions and doubts that have surrounded my decision to strengthen the ties between Earth and Vulcan with a symbolic union." He carefully stepped away from his desk and moved to stand in front of the window. It had started to rain, and dark gray clouds hung low over the bay. "Verify that the new links are secure. Until then, close all communications, both incoming and outgoing. I want a complete report that this task has been done on my desk by 1800 hours. You shall evaluate your purpose in serving in your current post, and shall base your decision to stay on that review."

"Yes, S'haile," Sennar meekly replied as he turned to leave.

"Sennar, send in my son. I require his presence."

"Yes, S'haile," the Vulcan again said, knowing that his chances of having a member of his House join with the more powerful house of his friend was gone forever. Within minutes of his leaving the ambassador's office, Sarek entered. He'd been showing Soran the apartment that was his assigned quarters, and had just left the inquisitive Vulcan to allow him time to regulate his time sense and recover from 'shuttle lag' that was common on long-range flights. Immediately, Sarek was struck by how still his father was as he joined him by the windows.

"My son," Skon said as a greeting, and Sarek tilted his head to acknowledge the welcome.

"Father, you summoned me."

"Indeed." Skon moved to take his place behind his desk, with Sarek taking a seat in front. "I must speak with you about a momentous opportunity that will forever change the relations between Earth and Vulcan."

Sarek only raised an eyebrow at his father's pronouncement.

"My son," Skon began, noting the slight unease in his son's dark hazel eyes. "A bondsmate has been chosen."

Blinking at the statement, Sarek could only bow his head. "I had hoped to travel to Vulcan this year for that purpose, Father," he softly replied.

"Yes, I understand that," Skon affirmed, his conciliatory tenor genuine. "Allow me to explain the significance of what I envision. As my son, you are a representative of Vulcan. I have been well pleased by you and your service to our home world."

"I come to serve," Sarek automatically replied, and Skon rather impatiently nodded.

"However, there has been a mounting schism between our world and that of Earth. It has been increasing despite my and Agani's best efforts to increase our joint missions and soothe the rift. For that reason, I have formulated a plan that shall unify our two peoples in a way that has never before been considered, or achieved." Skon leaned forward toward his puzzled son. "You agree that our relationship with the humans has been strained?"

"Yes," Sarek cautiously answered as he ran through a list of possible bondsmates his parents could have selected. "Our relationship is not one built on trust."

"Agreed," Skon evenly said as he continued to lean slightly toward his son. "Given the current state of affairs, what methods would you recommend as a way to increase understanding and cooperation?"

Sarek steeped his hands on his father's desk as he thought. "It would be preferable if the Federation became a more dynamic force in our diplomatic missions instead of an umbrella that covers even the most contradictory treaties and agreements."

"True," the ambassador said. "It would be preferable if the Federation would look more favorably on presenting a united front; however, my question is not simply one of diplomacy. What if the rapport between Humans and Vulcans increased to the point of a personal relationship developing between two members of each species?"

"I would estimate the odds." Sarek began, and then his words froze on his tongue. Surely, his father wasn't proposing that.

"Sarek, I have selected a human bondsmate for you who has been carefully screened and indoctrinated to our ways. She is…"

As much as he tried, the younger Vulcan couldn't prevent himself from forcefully pushing his chair back as he stood. Skon's response was immediate.

"Sit down," he ordered, but Sarek continued to stand as he stared, openly stunned, at his father.

"Father, you cannot expect me to take a human as a bondsmate! It is not possible."

"Sit down." The slowly enunciated words broke through Sarek's outrage and he sat. "Now, we shall discuss the bonding in a calm, logical manner."

"How can you expect me to bond with a human?" Sarek plaintively asked.

"The same way I would expect you to bond with any Vulcan woman that your mother and I selected," Skon said. "You are being groomed to be the next ambassador to Earth. What better way to strengthen our ties than with a representative bonding?"

"Representative," Sarek dully repeated. A chill had enveloped him as he considered his father's words. "You do not consider me worthy to have another Vulcan bondsmate?"

"What makes a human any less desirable a mate, Sarekam?" Skon didn't need to hear his son's response to know how upset he was. The clenched jaw line and whitened knuckles on the chair arm spoke volumes.

"It was not my desire to end my marriage to T'Rea. I did not want the divorce," Sarek acknowledged, his words barely above a whisper. "Now, you will punish me for that failure with this specious arrangement?"

"You are making assumptions, my son," Skon softly replied as he carefully contemplated his eldest son's stiff posture. "There is no evidence that the bonding between Vulcan and Human cannot be as strong as between two Vulcans. I have never blamed you for the dissolution of your union with T'Rea. It was her choice to study with the High Masters."

"Yes, it was her choice… to stay with me or to leave." The younger Vulcan's eyes and tone boiled with resentment as he glared at his father. "Now, you will use me as a representative sacrifice to the cause of unification between Earth and Vulcan." Now standing, he turned without asking his father's leave and strode toward the exit.

"You will NOT turn your back to me!" Skon declared, enraged by his son's lack of respect. Sarek came to a standstill, but did not face his father. Taking in a deep breath, both seemed to simultaneously force the tension from their back and shoulder blades. "There is still much to discuss," Skon offered as he waited for Sarek to agree. When nothing was said, he raised an eyebrow and inwardly sighed. "Come back and sit down."

Stonefaced, Sarek returned to his chair. The chasm that Skon had thought existed only between Humans and Vulcans was nothing compared to the fissure he feared he had just opened between himself and his son.

"Sarek," he began, his tone reasonable and light. "You are not being punished in any way by my choice of a human bondsmate for you. The young woman selected is of a good family. She has studied with Osavensu Tolak and has a strong working knowledge of the Vulcan language."

"Amanda," Sarek whispered. Skon started at his son's revelation that he knew the girl's name.

"How did you learn her name?" he asked, genuinely puzzled by his son's knowledge.

"I did some research after the 'eless' incident," Sarek replied. "Father, my visual observation of the girl would indicate that she is much too young to be considered a realistic bondsmate."

"She will be of age by the bonding ceremony."

"She is… not of age now?" Sarek assumed, his voice barely containing his indignation. "Father, I cannot believe that human parents would agree to a Vulcan bondsmate for their daughter."

"It has been agreed upon," Skon simply said as he stood. 

 

Sarek reluctantly stood as he sensed his father wasn't going to reveal much more about his ridiculous scheme. "If I should find another?" Sarek asked, but Skon coolly dismissed his question with the wave of his hand.

"It is settled and has been agreed upon as is deemed proper," he said with no room for argument. "The bonding ceremony shall take place when the young woman is of age in order to avoid any indication of impropriety."

Sarek knew not to question his father's announcement; however, he could appeal to his mother and the Family. A dull sense of fate exerting a most devious spin into his life seemed to enfold him as he respectfully left his father's office. He should have more strenuously protested the arrangement… he should have left the office instead of stopping. He understood his father's rationale, which wasn't surprising. That did not mean that he wanted to be an active participant in the inaugural marriage of Vulcan and Human. 

Sarek had to wonder if the girl – Amanda – questioned her parents in such a manner. He knew that his father was resolute in his mindset and wouldn't be swayed, unless…

Unless he could speak with Amanda and her parents directly to verify that they understood what Skon was advocating. He needed to discover more than just the girl's first name, and he believed that there was a way. Checking the saved data from his initial investigation, he found the name and comm number of Niall Scott; however, the communications network was inoperative due to the installation and testing of the new screening process.

By late afternoon, the network was up, and Sarek entered the number of the former embassy student who, he hoped, still had some contact with Amanda.

"May I help you, sair?" The surprised face of a young human male broke into a cautious smile as the screen image solidified.

"Yes," Sarek said as he considered the best approach to his question. "I am Sarek, a senior diplomat at the Vulcan Embassy in San Francisco. I need to contact a former student that I believe you may know. Her name is Amanda."

"Amanda?" Niall warmly replied even as he stifled a yawn. His smile widened and the creases around his eyes deepened. "Amanda Grayson? Och, it's been awhile since I've talked to the lass. Last I heard, her parents were moving back to Boston. I'd think she'd be with them." 

Sarek leaned toward the screen as he tried to both understand the man's thick accent and ignore the squalls of an infant. Niall grimaced as he looked off-screen.

"Darlin', could ye please settle down Monty? He's making a racket an' I canna hear." Sarek could hear the sound of a young woman's voice making some unintelligible sounds that were apparently aimed at calming the child. Niall shrugged as he sheepishly continued to grin. "Sorry, `tis late at night here, and the babe should be asleep."

"There is no reason for an apology; in fact, I ask forgiveness for contacting you at this inconvenient time."

"No problem," Niall said as he again stifled a yawn. "Sleep is a rare luxury when ye have a newborn."

"You have no further information about the young woman?" Sarek asked.

"No, I'm afraid not," Niall said as he grimaced again at a particularly ear-splitting wail. "I must go, sair. I hope ye're able to find her."

"Your assistance has been most helpful, sir," the Vulcan answered as the screen darkened. Most helpful, he thought. He now had a more complete name, and the girl was likely with her parents in Boston. With a renewed sense of purpose now that he had more information, Sarek began to search the network for anything available about Amanda Grayson.

 

College life was definitely much better than Amanda had ever anticipated. Before her parents move back to Boston, she and her dad had scoured the neighborhoods near the campus to find a room or apartment that she could afford. The resident halls were already filled to capacity, and for several unnerving days, both Amanda and her dad wondered if she would ever find a suitable place to live. Finally, with only a couple of days left before her parents returned to the East Coast, a tiny advertisement on the local nets caught her eye. The ad stated that a single female was looking for a roommate for an apartment near Cal. What impressed Amanda was that it was also supposedly near the ped-walks, which would save her shuttle fare. A quick call later, and she and her dad were standing outside a brightly colored door with the word `Orange' boldly scrawled from top to bottom in flashing neon blue lights. While her dad gave her a doleful look, Amanda pressed the visitor alert and was startled when the door immediately flew open to reveal a much less dramatic interior and the person who had placed the ad.

"Are you Amanda?" the young woman asked as she stood back to allow both John and his daughter to enter. The woman was nearly as tall as John, but with model thinness and a shocking burst of yellow and green highlighted hair and chocolate brown eyes that matched her lipstick and outfit.

"Yes, I am, and this is my dad, John Grayson," the girl said as she took in the surprisingly plain walls and furnishings.

"Freshman, huh," the woman said as she pushed several padds off the nearby settee and motioned for them to sit down.

"Yes," Amanda admitted as she observed the way her dad suspiciously took in his surroundings. As she sat, she could feel herself sinking lower and lower into the worn cushions as she gave the woman a strained smile.

"That's no problem," the woman said as she returned the smile. "The rent is 400 credits a month and you'll have access to every room except my bedroom… for now." Amanda started slightly as the young woman reached down to heartily shake John's hand. "Oh, I forgot to introduce myself! My name is Orange Lemmon." 

While her first name was spelled orange, she pronounced it o-ronj, and said her last name as lay-maan. Amanda bit her lip to keep from laughing as she watched her dad's stunned nod as Orange launched herself into the hallway. Practically rolling out of the couch, they hurried to catch up.

"That will be your room, the facilities are at the end of the hall, shared, and I'm a vegetarian. Is that a problem?" Amanda shook her head.

"No, I don't eat too much meat anymore," she said as Orange pointed to a door.

"That'll be yours."

The room was already furnished with a bed and a desk, which was good since Maura had persevered in her request that Amanda not take her antique desk and clock into a college setting; however, it was the room's view that cinched the deal for Amanda. While the busy street buzzed with activity below, the third floor window revealed an intermittent view of the bay from between the buildings across the road. She gazed expectantly at John as he rolled his eyes slightly. It was better than any of the other places they had investigated, and while he was a bit nervous about Orange, she didn't seem to be as strange as some of the others he'd met and rejected. With one potential roommate asking about his daughter's sexual activity level, another asking how many credits she'd have access to, and another wanting to know exactly how often he'd call, John considered Orange almost normal. And so, Amanda moved in only days before classes started.

Without her dad present, Amanda learned much more about her colorful new roommate. Orange had been raised in one of the `New Utopia' communes that had been tremendously popular just prior to Amanda's birth. With a number of friends as former or current members, Amanda wasn't surprised by some of Orange's avant-garde mannerisms. 

"So," Orange began just as soon as the last carton was unpacked and Amanda sank into the people-eating couch, "tell me truthfully… are you het, bi, or hom?"

"Het," Amanda replied as she tried to get her feet back on the floor. "My psych profile verifies that."

"No latent tendencies?"

"None that I'm aware of."

"Oh, well," Orange sighed. "I had to know since I have a number of friends that come and go and they'd ask. You've pretty, you know. You don't mind if I have overnight guests?"

"No, that's fine. More than likely, I'll be in my room studying," Amanda answered as she watched Orange light several candles that she had placed around the room. "Do you have a current boyfriend or girlfriend?"

"Both," Orange laughed. "Actually, I'm close with a couple of people. I hate the thought of limiting myself to just one person. Do you have a boyfriend?"

Amanda shook her head as she inhaled the strongly scented air. It was a warm, spicy aroma that was quite comforting and hinted of cinnamon. "Boyfriend? No," she replied as she again looked around the mostly barren living room. "I'm going to be working part-time and going to classes. I doubt I'll have much time left for socializing."

"Well, we can't have that," Orange insisted as she pointed toward the window. "There's a big world out there, Amanda. I say you should have some fun while you're young. Speaking of that." The older girl tossed a padd toward Amanda, who barely caught it before it hit her in the chest. "That contains the names and comm numbers of some of my friends. The ones marked with a blue star are het. The blue stars that are circled are the ones I'd recommend… mostly older guys." 

"Older guys?" Amanda asked as she began to scan the extensive list of names with a curious eye.

"Oh, yeah," Orange said with a huge, mischievous grin. "Trust me, you don't want to waste your time with the awkward, clammy-handed undergraduates. A few have decent techniques, but the ones you want are the experienced ones. They make the best lovers."

"Oh," the younger girl said as she felt the red flush of embarrassment cover her face. 

 

Orange laughed. "Gods above," she said as she observed the girl's discomfort. "Tell me you're not a lamb!" Amanda grimaced at the 'New Utopia' term for a virgin even as she continued to blush.

"Fine, I won't tell you," she avowed as Orange groaned.

"Never mind," the statuesque girl sighed as she pointed toward the list. "I still recommend the older guys… the older, the better for innocent little lambs."

"Whatever you say," Amanda chortled softly as she handed the padd back to her roommate. "If you don't mind, I'll try to find someone on my own. If that doesn't work, I'll ask for your help."

"That's a deal," Orange said with an affectionate smile.

Despite their vastly different lifestyles, Amanda found that her roommate wasn't nearly as wild and carefree as the image she liked to project. While Orange did have a revolving door policy when it came to her love life, she had a very conventional belief in doing well in her classes that Amanda could emulate. Plus, since Orange was a year ahead, she could recommend or nix certain classes and professors. Amanda loved spending time on campus, especially walking through the wooded areas around Strawberry creek and picnicking like she used to at Brantley with T'Spia. She made a point of arranging her schedule so that she could be near the Campanile at noon to listen to the daily carillon concert, even if it only meant that she heard it as she hiked to her next class. Amanda had always thought that she was in good physical condition, but her first weeks at Cal tested that theory as she found herself winded and tired by the end of each day due to the seemingly constant uphill walks. With little time to study except at night, she often spent hours in the Bancroft Library, its beautifully arched ceilings and gorgeous collection of art beckoning her back time and again. The faintly musty smell of aged paper from the old-fashioned books strongly reminded her of the Grayson library before Claire got her hands on it and sold the contents. It was yet another spot on campus that reminded her of good times from the past.

Her change from full to part time at the Earth Embassy actually worked out much better than she could have guessed. For some inexplicable reason, Amanda noticed that the daily workflow wasn't increasing as it had been in the past. She was able to transcribe more and more of the older messages, and couldn't see any noticeable increase to her stacks as the weeks went by. Her seventeenth birthday came and went with little fanfare, except for a surprise party that Li organized for her. Her parents sent her some credits to go shopping for clothes, and her brothers each sent a vid card. Amanda was thrilled to hear that Matt had proposed to Ming, but they hadn't set a date yet for the wedding. She couldn't wait to be in a wedding party. It always seemed that she was either too old or too young to participate in the past, and now was her best chance. An unanticipated melancholy feeling swept over her at the thought of her big brother getting married. She knew that he and Ming were deeply in love with each other, but she couldn't shake the feeling that something that good couldn't last forever.

Nothing ever did.

 

 

Chapter 14 – The Discovery

 

"Oh, Mr. Spock, you do have one saving grace after all. You're ill mannered. The human half of you, no doubt."  
(Trelane - The Squire of Gothos)

 

Soran entered the office suite with a somewhat displeased look on his usually sanguine features. Sarek had told him that he would be indisposed and could not join him for mid meal; however, it appeared that his friend hadn't left the Embassy office since early that morning. "An urgent matter?" Soran inquired as Sarek looked up at him from his seat.

"No, my friend," Sarek said easily as he stood. It was 1400 hours, and he raised an eyebrow as he observed the small, marked package that Soran held. "I see that you did, indeed, go to the Wharf as you intended."

"Indeed. I was most disappointed that representatives of the fishing industry were not in evidence as I'd presumed they would be." Soran noted the glimmer of light in his friend's eyes and took on an affronted look. "One would assume that a location named `Fisherman's Wharf' would have actual fishermen present."

"It is as I told you," Sarek replied as he watched his friend open the package. "The existing name is not indicative of the offered services. The names are historic only."

"I understand," the aide said as he held out a wrapped item. "This is referred to as 'salt-water taffy'. I was told that it is quite good." Sarek took the offered treat and turned it over in his hand to read the ingredients. Soran shrugged slightly as he noted the way Sarek's eyebrow rose. "The treat does contain sucrose; therefore, I intend to consume a piece before retiring."

"Of course," Sarek agreed as he put the taffy down next to his monitor. "It would be wise not to indulge in such an item at this time."

"I trust that your research as been productive?"

Sarek pursed his lips as he shook his head. "It is possible that I may have to conduct my search at a different site."

"You still believe that your work is being monitored?"

"Yes," the senior diplomat stated. "At certain points during my investigation, the data collected has been deleted and pertinent files are contaminated. It is obvious that my father does not want me to contact Amanda."

Soran had been appraised of his friend's situation and had supported him in his attempt to locate the human. "Have you considered my proposal?" he asked as Sarek leaned back and steeped his hands on his desk.

"I have, and it has merit," Sarek admitted as he gazed at the inadequate posted information on his screen. "What have you discovered?"

"The humans have numerous free-access portals throughout the city that are placed in public spaces, such as libraries or institutes of higher learning. Anyone may use the monitors based on a nominal fee and for a specific amount of time." Soran pressed a key on his monitor to transfer his information to Sarek. "As you can see, there are several locations that are within walking distance of the embassy. If you would join me for mid meal tomorrow, we should be able to find one of these portals and not draw attention to ourselves."

"It would be uncharacteristic for me to leave with you, my friend," Sarek replied. "My habits are known to my father, and if I suddenly took mid meal away from the embassy grounds, that would certainly be noticed."

"Then I shall investigate on my own," Soran concluded as he began to download a treaty review. "You are correct in your assessment, and it would be logical if I pursued this alone."

"It is not your concern," Sarek began, but the aide raised his hand.

"Whenever I have appealed for your assistance, you have always been there," Soran said. "Allow me this."

"The resolution in this matter would be greatly appreciated," Sarek said as he nodded his approval. "Tomorrow, then."

"Agreed," the aide readily declared. Soran did not wish to seem intrusive, but he was quite curious about the human that Skon had selected for his friend as a bondsmate. 

The next day, as agreed upon, Soran left the embassy grounds at his usual time and returned promptly as was his practice. Sarek had been ensconced in a meeting for several hours, and while he wanted to learn what had been found, he patiently waited until he could be dismissed to return to his office. Upon entering, he immediately caught sight of the troubled look on his friend's face before the aide could replace it with an impassive façade. "What troubles you, Soran?" Sarek directly asked. 

 

The aide seemed to be contemplating something of great weight as he carefully placed his elbows on his desk. "Sarek, is it possible that your father is ill?"

"Ill?" With hawk-like intensity, Sarek focused on his friend. "Why would you ask such a question?"

"I discovered more than even I anticipated," Soran divulged as he nearly grimaced at the memory. "The human is here in the San Francisco area. More specifically, in the city of Berkeley."

"Here?" Sarek repeated as he straightened. "I do not understand. Her parents are in Boston. I was able to corroborate that much from my research."

"Perhaps they left her here for a reason," Soran said, his eyes sympathetic as he continued. "With little effort due to the poor security in place at the portal stations, I was able to discover where she is currently living. Forgive my presumptuousness; however, I went to the location."

"Was she there?" Sarek asked. It was incredible to him that Soran had been able to do within minutes what weeks of research had failed to reveal.

"I.believe so." The aide was not looking quite intently at his desktop. "When I pressed the visitor alert at the apartment specified, a young human male answered the door. He was."

"He?" Sarek's eyes widened. He? The bondsmate his father had selected was living with another male? "What was he, Soran?"

"He was… unclothed."

"Unclothed?" The story only grew worse, he reflected, as his friend sighed.

"Indeed. A female voice called from the back bedroom to ask who was at the door. I thought it best not to introduce myself."

"That was wise," Sarek murmured. Unclothed? The male was unclothed and answered the door in that state of undress? And the woman… his intended bondsmate… was...

"I returned to the embassy as soon as possible. I apologize, my friend," Soran concluded as he watched the stunned senior diplomat. 

 

Sarek suddenly stood, every ounce of control exerting itself to prevent his temper from overtaking him. "This is unacceptable and will not be," he avowed, his tone laced with outrage. "I shall speak with my father immediately. It has been difficult enough to attempt to understand his proposed idea of a human bondsmate. Now, it is time to end this debacle."

"Sarek, where are you going?" Soran asked as the senior diplomat stormed past his desk.

"I cannot allow this!" Sarek adamantly said, his voice deep with conviction. "It is time to find a proper bondsmate."

As the office door shut, Soran sat back and gazed up at the ceiling. He had enjoyed his brief sojourn on Earth, but it appeared to be at an end. He had no doubt what Sarek had in mind. With that in mind, the aide pulled up the Space Central schedule to determine the next available flight to Vulcan.

Skon heard his son's footfall before the doors to his office swung open. The obvious frenetic pace did not bode well for a peaceful meeting, and he was not surprised by the glint of anger in Sarek's dark eyes as he entered and strode toward the desk.

"Father, I must return to Vulcan immediately."

"No," Skon replied as he calmly gazed at his son. "First, you must reclaim your control. What has happened? Your chaotic thoughts are evident to me from here."

Sarek took in a breath, but it did not calm him. "Soran has discovered that Amanda is here in the San Francisco area. Were you aware that she is living with a human male?"

Both eyebrows jumped as Skon searched his son's face. "You are convinced that Soran was at the right apartment? Perhaps there was an error."

"He verified the address and is certain. Soran stated that the male answered the door in a completely unclothed state, and that a female was also present." Sarek finally relaxed as he saw that his father was as appalled as he was.

"That cannot be," Skon maintained as he observed the way his son seemed almost buoyant that this disclosure would possibly end the human bondsmate arrangement forever. If what Sarek said was true, and he had no doubt that it was to the best of his son's knowledge, then there would be no bonding. Such a scandal might not be a problem for humans, but Skon could not allow even a hint of indecency to enter. There would likely be enough scrutiny of both parties without something like this tarnishing their reputations. 

"I ask permission to return to Vulcan to seek a bondsmate."

Skon closed his eyes as he wondered about his obvious error in selecting an emotional being for such a momentous event. Had the girl rebelled against her father's obligation to repay the loan by conducting herself in an unscrupulous manner? There was only one way to find out.

"Sarek, allow me to conduct an investigation into your allegations against Amanda," he said as he struggled to retain some semblance of authority over the matter. "If your assertion is correct, then you shall travel to Vulcan with my approval."

As he watched his son leave his office, Skon inhaled deeply. As he exhaled, he carefully considered his options and came to one simple conclusion. Despite John Grayson's insistence that he not contact her, Skon knew that he had to meet with Amanda without delay. He had to attempt to salvage his plan, even if it meant a disruption to his intended time schedule.

The thought occurred that it would be easier to hold a handful of sand during a windstorm without losing any grains than to get his son to agree to the bonding. Under the circumstances, he completely understood.

 

 

Amanda entered the apartment late in the evening after finishing her work at the Embassy. Before she even crossed the living room, she had kicked off her heels and thrown her carryall onto the people-eating couch. Into it was more accurate as the bag sank like an object stuck in quicksand. Pausing in the hall, she closed her eyes and winced. Orange had the music nets in her room set on 'high ecstasy' and her latest Triple M, or male morsel of the month, seemed to be keeping pace with the pounding rhythm of the music. Amanda had long ago lost her embarrassment at the sounds and occasional sights that she observed in the shared apartment. Orange had apparently never heard of modesty or quiet, and Amanda feared that they would be asked to move. The owner of the building had already stated that they were on probation. What the infraction was that would result in their expulsion hadn't been fully explained, but the threat was enough that she had started to check the nets and talk with friends to see if there were any other living arrangements that might suffice in a pinch.

Once in her room with the door securely locked, Amanda quickly found her music plugs and programmed a soothing net feed of classical music. Before she could even settle onto her bed to relax, a rap on her door brought her back to her feet. She frowned at the disturbance and waited to see if she could hear the door across the hall open. It seemed to be a weekly occurrence that Orange's 'friend's' would become disoriented and knock on her door or try to come into her room. It was only after Orange reassured her repeatedly that it would never happen again that she'd agreed not to leave. Now, someone was pounding on her door again. "Who is it?" she crossly asked, wondering if she could be heard over the music.

"Me," Orange replied, her voice muffled. "I need to ask you something."

Amanda opened the door, and her roommate entered with her friend, Be'el. They had apparently finished up for the evening, for Orange wore a long silk nightshirt and Be'el wore the matching bottoms.

"What is it?" Amanda asked as she cleared a chair of its contents. Orange shook her head.

"Oh, we're not staying," she said as she leaned against her companion. "I just was wondering about your Vulcan friend."

"My Vulcan friend? What are you talking about?" Amanda asked as she watched the humored look that Be'el gave to Orange.

"Well, here I was, saying 'poor little lamb', and this Vulcan shows up at my door! I assume he's yours," Orange said with a laugh. Amanda was now totally confused.

"Orange, I don't know what you're talking about. I don't know any Vulcans that are on Earth that I'd like to invite to my apartment."

"Oh?" Be'el said as he exaggerated a grimace. "Pity. He was tasty looking."

"Really," Amanda said as she graced him with a withered look. "You know, most Vulcans wouldn't give us the time of day, let alone look us up on the nets to 'discover' us."

"Well, I just thought he was yummy," Be'el retorted. 

 

Amanda laughed. "Yummy? That has to be the first time I've ever."

The loud pounding on the front door stopped her reply. The three froze and waited to see which of them was brave enough to answer even as the door was battered a second time. Orange unwillingly moved to find out who so anxiously wanted to be admitted.

As she approached the door, Amanda was glad to see that Be'el had enough sense to go back into Orange's room and close the door.

"Well, well, well!" said an angry male voice as Orange opened the door, "Imagine my surprise to find only two people here!"

"Mr. Olhm," Orange acknowledged as she twirled around to make sure that she and Amanda were the only ones in view. "What a surprise! It's so late...I'm sure you're tired and…"

"Oh, yes." Mr. Olhm replied as he glared at the tall young woman. His double chins shook as he spoke. "I'm virtually exhausted, mostly because I can't sleep with all the noise up here! I warned you already that you were on probation, and now it's too late! I want you both out of here! Now!"

"Now?" Amanda squeaked as she stepped forward. "Sir, you can't be serious!"

Despite his best effort, Olhm's expression softened. "I'm sorry, Amanda. I've already used up my best excuses for the noise in this unit. The other tenants have been more than patient, but now I have to ask that you both leave."

"It's not her fault!" Orange insisted as she pushed the petite girl forward. "At least let Amanda stay."

"The directors have spoken," he tiredly stated. "I'm very sorry, but you both must be out within twenty-four hours."

"May I ask a question?" Amanda softly said. 

 

Olhm sighed as he felt his resolve waver. He knew that the trouble came from Orange. "Certainly. What is it?" he asked.

"Is it possible for us to have at least three days? I've got early morning classes tomorrow and I'm working tomorrow afternoon. I certainly can't afford to miss work, especially not now." Her blue eyes shone with great earnestness at the man, and he finally sighed.

"I'll see what I can do, but I'd suggest you both begin to pack," he offered as he watched the petite student's expression soften at his leniency.

"Oh, thank you!" she gushed as she watched the man's reluctant accepting nod. "Mr. Olhm, you're a dear to help us."

"I'm only helping you, young lady," Olhm pointedly said as he glared back into the apartment. Be'el had apparently been unable to resist the impulse to find out what was taking place in the living room. "As for you," he said as he pointed a stubby finger at Orange, "I'd suggest that you learn something from this."

"Sure, great lesson," Orange sarcastically said as she sauntered back to the bedroom. "I'll take this wonderful learning experience to my grave."

"I want you out by morning!" Olhm yelled as he caught sight of the smirk the tall girl gave him. "I'll call the authorities if I find you and any of your friends in here after noon!"

The large man started to leave the apartment, but then turned back to where the stunned roommate stood. "Amanda, if you want, I have a list of several apartments nearby that you might be interested in. There's a waiting list for this unit already, and I can't convince the directors that you're not the problem."

"I understand, and I would appreciate that apartment list," the girl replied with a wan smile. After closing the door, Amanda stormed to Oranges' bedroom door and hit it as hard as she could. The music nets were back on, which only infuriated her more.

"What?" Orange said as a way of greeting as she opened the door. She'd removed the silk overshirt since entering her bedroom. Amanda's mouth dropped open as she glared at the nude form of her roommate.

"What do you mean, what?! Don't you realize that we've been thrown out? This is all your fault, and I'm sorry that I ever moved in here!" 

 

She turned to go to her room, but Orange grabbed her arm. "There's no sense in yelling at me about it," the taller girl insisted as she allowed Amanda to shrug off her hold. "This isn't the first time I've been asked to move. I really appreciate the way you got old fat Olhm to give us a little more time. There's nothing worse than finding your panties strewn about in the foliage because the landlord couldn't wait for you to pack."

"Panties hanging in the trees?" Be'el said, and giggled madly as Amanda forced herself to remain focused on her anger. Orange had a way of disarming a good fight with humor that could be most effective.

"I didn't want to move!" she stated as she tried to silence the laughter in the background with a look. "This is a great location, and now I'll have to try to find another place close by. That's going to be impossible!"

"Oh, nothing's impossible," Orange casually offered as she put on a robe that was hanging near the door. "Relax! I already have a place for us to go."

"Us? Oh, no," Amanda said as the warning lights went off in her head. "Don't think for a second that I'm going to be roommates with you again!"

"Stop being such a drama queen," Orange said with a smile. "Listen. my BP's know a family from our group who live in Berkeley Hills. You know, those really beautiful old houses? They said that if I ever wanted to, I could come and stay with them for a while. They're really nice, and you're welcome to come, too."

Amanda couldn't explain how her roommate did it, but she felt her anger beginning to fade. Berkeley Hills was an exclusive neighborhood very reminiscent of the homes and area she knew from childhood. She knew that in the `New Utopia' lingo, a BP was a birth parent, and that the children of the group could ask any member for help and it would be offered with no questions asked. Still.

"I'm not interested in joining the group, though," Amanda insisted.

"That's fine. I'm not a recruiter," Orange said as she threw a large carryall onto her bed. Be'el made an insulted sound as he stood and slipped into his clothes.

"You're going to pack now?" Amanda asked as she watched her former roommate start to pull out more bags.

"Why not? I can't sleep with this hanging over me," the statuesque girl said with a shrug. "I guarantee that you'll be packing tonight, too."

Amanda opened her mouth to disagree, but then closed it and slumped against the doorjamb. "You're right. I'm too upset to do anything else."

"Don't worry about it!" the older girl maintained as she started to sort her clothes into piles on the floor. "Just grab your stuff and come with me. We'll be out of here before daybreak. Skip your classes tomorrow to sleep, and I promise that everything will look different in a week. Start packing."

Amanda blinked as she realized she'd just been given her agenda for the night. With a discouraged sigh, she went to her room, found some carryalls, and started to load the bags with her carefully folded clothes.

 

Before dawn broke, the two young women had finished packing. Orange had called several of her commune friends, and they had agreed to help the displaced roommates move their larger items and furniture. As they left the empty apartment for the last time, Amanda felt a wave of panic. This was going to be just another unexplained mess that her mother would blame on her. Guilty by association. She'd contact her parents once she figured out where Orange was planning to take her and whether or not she'd stay.

The trip to Berkeley Hills was surprisingly pleasant, as Orange and her friends made up silly little songs about the 'two drifting adventurers' on a quest for new living quarters. After several verses of 'Hi-diddle-ee-dee, the nomadic life for me', Amanda was giggling and not feeling quite so sorry for herself. She knew that she was only running on adrenaline since they'd spent the night preparing to move, but even in that fatigued state, she truly believed that things were going to get better. They had to.

The lovely two-story Colonial style home that they found themselves at also improved her mood. At the door, a gregarious couple and an avalanche of children warmly greeted Orange and Amanda. Amanda counted twelve little heads before they were even led into the richly appointed foyer. The comfortable feeling of home pervaded the residence, and the couple, introduced as Papa Monday and Mama Dahl, welcomed them like they were long-lost offspring. Papa Monday was a thin, balding man, just a little taller than Amanda. His huge smile made her forget the evening's troubles, just as the tenderness in Mama's Dahl's big cornflower blue eyes reminded her of her father's protective gaze. The buxom woman listened with the occasional sympathetic tut-tut as Amanda and Orange told them of their apartment ordeal. It was only when they were shown to their room that Amanda had a chance to breath and attempted to sort out the nighttime events.

"What a brood, huh?" Orange remarked as she threw one of her carryalls on a bed. The bedroom that they'd been given was designed to hold at least six children, and Amanda suspected that the beds would be full that evening.

"Do they all belong to Papa Monday and Mama Dahl?" Amanda asked.

"Oh, no," the taller girl said with a chuckle. "They're just the house parents. They take care of the children because they're good at it. Papa Monday isn't even a BP! The children's parents are likely at work and will be home later. We believe in using the talents of the group for the benefit of all."

"Well, that makes sense," Amanda concurred as she stretched out on the bottom bunk bed that she'd been given. "I know that they said we could stay as long as we'd like, but it's going to be hard to study with so many children underfoot."

"I wouldn't say that," Orange retorted as she also stretched out on her bed. "These multi-family units are pretty strict and are as quiet as tombs at night. The rules tend to be followed down to the letter in order to keep discipline. That's why I've been on my own since I was fourteen… I hated the rules."

"That doesn't surprise me," Amanda said with a yawn. She closed her eyes as she listened to the gentle ebb and flow of conversations in the hallway. Tired as she was, the realization that she was letting her life run her instead of the other way around troubled her thoughts and kept slumber at bay. Amanda blearily opened her eyes as she took in the dormitory-style set-up of the room. As soon as she could, she'd find a place of her own, settle in, and regain control of her destiny. She could feel the tension leave her as she promised herself that nothing would stand in her way. Seconds later, she was fast asleep.

\----- 

"S'haile, I cannot locate the human at the address given."

Skon's dark eyes locked onto his aide as he slowly raised his left eyebrow. He'd asked Sennar to verify that Sarek's information was correct and that the apartment was, indeed, Amanda's. It was almost with relief that he nodded.

"She is not there because an error has been made," he concluded. "Soran must have mistakenly accessed the wrong address." 

 

Sennar bowed his head slightly at the determination. "That appears to be true, my friend," the aide confirmed. "Soran is inexperienced in his duties and reached a flawed conclusion. Whoever had been the occupant of that unit appears to have left in some haste. A cleaning crew was present and a sizable amount of debris was being removed from the premises."

"The apartment tenants might have been asked to move if their conduct was unacceptable," Skon affirmed as he considered the situation. While satisfied that he would not have to contact Amanda immediately, he still wanted to confirm her whereabouts. "Conduct a net search within the coded security means available. I want to know exactly where Amanda is. You shall personally verify that the gathered information is correct."

"Yes, S'haile," Sennar replied. 

 

Skon cocked his head slightly at the subdued tone of his friend. "Is something wrong, Sennar?" he asked as he observed the way the other's back straightened at the question.

"I am curious," the aide admitted as he took in a deep breath. "What will happen when the human girl is informed of the bonding? Or, is she aware that it will take place?"

Skon allowed his mouth to tighten even as he wondered the same thing. "Since I have not received the tuition repayment as John Grayson agreed to, I must believe that he will inform her of the arrangement."

"If he does not?" 

 

The question hung in the air for a moment as Skon waited for his friend to continue. When nothing else was forthcoming, the ambassador spoke. "I shall contact John prior to Amanda's eighteenth birthday. He will inform me then of his intentions."

"He could take this matter into the public forum and gravely damage our image," Sennar contended. "Humans are not familiar with our customs and might assume that we have coerced the young girl into a bonding. There is no precedent to guide us."

"I am well aware of that, Sennar," Skon tersely replied. "While I have put enormous trust in the integrity of John Grayson, I am conscious of what might occur if he should renege on his agreement. If John repays the tuition, then no mention of the bonding will occur. T'Lara and I have already planned for that contingency. If he cannot repay the tuition, then we shall calmly discuss the option of bonding. It is not my wish to make such a private matter public."

"I only point out the possibilities, my friend," the aide said.

"That is true," the ambassador agreed. "Your opinion of the effect the bonding might have on all of Vulcan is respected; however, I maintain that it is to our benefit for it to occur."

"We shall see," Sennar stated as he left the office. 

 

Skon sat quietly for a moment as he again questioned his logic. His strong conviction that the human girl was the right choice was based on such meagre evidence. If he was wrong, it was not he who would suffer, but his son. Standing, he walked to the windows and observed the flitter traffic as it raced along the designated lanes. Once Sennar located the girl, he might still ask to meet with her, simply to put his mind at ease that she was the one. He trusted his initial assessment; however, time could transform anyone. With a sense of purpose, he resolved to talk with John Grayson at his earliest convenience. His office was coordinating an upcoming conference and off-planet diplomatic mission to the Vega system that would take several months to complete. He could not place personal matters above duty; therefore, he would wait until after official business was complete.

A quick mental evaluation made him scowl slightly. It was disconcerting to realize that he preferred talking to the antagonistic Vegan delegates compared to speaking with John again. Something to meditate on, he thought, as he left his office.

 

As Amanda expected, her mother was infuriated by the news that she'd been asked to leave the apartment. Also, as expected, her dad was disappointed, but first asked if she was all right. Although her mother wanted a detailed account of why she'd been evicted, Amanda simply gave her the excuse that she and her roommate were accused of being disruptive and noisy. That seemed to satisfy her mother. While both parents were uncomfortable with their daughter's new living arrangement, they were aware that the 'New Utopia' members were not known as a dangerous alternative group. John was especially pushing for her to find a new place to live as soon as she could, but as time passed, Amanda found less and less reason to leave.

Living in the house in Berkeley Hills was far different than Amanda had expected. The enormous two-story housed a total of five different families ranging in age from a newborn to a one-hundred-twenty-seven year old Great-Great-Great Grandmother. The aged woman, simply called Ma, was still sharp and able to remember events from her youth that enthralled Amanda. Ma could recall times just a few decades after Contact Day with the Vulcans and details of the exploration of space done by intrepid members of Star Fleet that kept the petite girl wide-eyed and asking for more. The children were also completely charming and so well behaved that Amanda was able to study in her room without having to resort to her usual trips to the library. Orange managed to stay in the house for almost a week, but then was invited to live with a girlfriend in her place close to the bay. It amused Amanda that the entire household wholeheartedly endorsed the statuesque girl's move out. While she expected that she'd be asked to leave with Oranges' move, the families all agreed that she could reside in the house if she would help with the regular household duties and expenses. After insisting that she wasn't interested in joining the group and being assured that she didn't have to, Amanda agreed to stay.

As the weeks slipped past, she found her life structured in a routine that offered little flexibility. Early morning classes at Cal were followed by a return to the house to help with the housework or look after the children. Amanda had early on decided not to pigeonhole herself into a major until she finished her core requirements: however, after some careful consideration, she knew that she was leaning toward a degree in education, especially after babysitting the children and discovering the wonders of the world through their eyes. Never having been around such young, eager minds before, Amanda felt right at home tending to them and answering their never-ending questions. After the first group of parents returned from their jobs, she would take a shuttle from a nearby station and go to the embassy. It was a schedule that was most accommodating to her need to get her life back under control. There simply was no time for her to find trouble.

After a few months and pressure from her parents, Amanda regularly checked the webs until she received word that a resident hall single unit apartment had come available. The former occupant had dropped out of school, and Amanda would be able to move in once the rooms were readied. While she wasn't being pressured to leave the Berkeley Hills home, she did feel that it wasn't fair to take advantage of the group's generosity. Saying goodbye to the adults wasn't nearly as difficult as leaving the children. She was teary eyed by the time she finished giving the last little one a hug and kiss and made a promise to visit often.

Her new apartment was in the latest building recently constructed to accommodate the growing student population. It was a simple three-room efficiency with a combination kitchen/living/dining room, a tiny bedroom, and a compact bathroom. Unlike the apartment she'd shared with Orange, there was no lovely view of the bay from the windows; however, she did like the privacy and sense of independence the new living arrangement offered.

As the weeks went by and the semester ended, Amanda decided to stay in San Francisco in order to get as many hours as she could at the embassy. Rumors about the demise of the translation area were rampant due to the trickle of new transmissions coming in. The department was very close to having all of the once towering stacks of computer chits translated and saved into the master system. Amanda had to admit that it was nice to be able to see her floor for the first time.

One evening after the winter holiday break and the start of her second semester at Cal, Amanda was in the middle of a translation when Li stopped in her doorway and waved to get her attention. Shutting down the feed, the girl frowned at the uncharacteristic interruption.

"Yes?" Amanda asked as she rolled her shoulder blades to relax the tension in her neck and back.

"Would you come with me for a moment?"

The forced ease with which Li asked the question strongly suggested to Amanda that she really didn't want to go, but she stood and followed the older woman down the hall to the office of another translator. The man, one of the senior translators who always wore a grim look on his gaunt face, looked up when they entered and nodded them toward two chairs.

"I need to ask you a question."

"Certainly, Mr. Neblett," Amanda replied. She had grown accustomed to the man's direct mannerism.

"Would you listen to this and tell me your impression of what they're talking about? This transmission was from several months ago." He handed her an earplug and tapped an order into his monitor as she inserted the small devise in her right ear. Immediately, the guttural Vulcan flowed and she listened intently. The conversation was brief, and as she removed the earplug, Amanda held it in her hand for a moment and stared down at it as if hypnotized.

"What is it?" Li asked as she leaned forward. She didn't like the unusual immobility that had overtaken her young employee. Instead of answering, Neblett spoke.

"It was a transmission that discussed a Vulcan ceremony of some sort. The conversation was between Skon and his wife." He stopped speaking as he also noticed the stillness in Amanda's demeanor.

"What was said?" Li asked. 

 

Amanda took in a shaky breath. "They said that they had to select a Vulcan bondsmate if the bonding between the human girl and their son was unachievable."

"It's not an uncommon name," Neblett offered as Li curiously tilted her head toward the man.

"What's not an uncommon name?" Li demanded as she watched Amanda slump somewhat into her chair.

"Amanda," the girl replied in a whisper. "They said the human girl's name was Amanda."


End file.
